The Doorway to Many Worlds
by friends-16uk
Summary: Seven months into the school year and Harry's kept silent about the prophesy. Searching for his best friend during yet another of his dissappearing acts Ron stumbles across a world similar and yet very different from his own. RHr COMPLETE, DONE, FINISHED
1. Prologue

**The Doorway to Many Worlds**

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Prologue

"Ronald Weasley!" shouted his mother from downstairs, "You get up right this instant! We're already running late!"

Grudgingly he slothed out of bed and dragged himself to the bathroom. It wasn't until he'd thoroughly soaked his face with cold water and stared into the mirror that he realised what day it was. Today Harry and Hermione would be joining him for the last two weeks of the summer holidays before they returned to Hogwarts for their sixth year.

Instantly he felt his stomach clench and his head became swamped with thoughts. Anything that included Hermione sent his body into knots but today it wasn't just the usual butterfly feelings. Ever since seeing her in the hospital wing after the catastrophic 'rescue' attempt last term he'd sworn that this year he'd finally stop being an immature prat and just ask her out.

But it wasn't just Hermione.

Harry had stayed at his aunts for the majority of the holidays and, to Ron's surprise, he hadn't complained. The letters they shared were few and far between and when they did arrive Harry's were always somewhat colder than usual. Guilt washed over Ron as he thought for a moment that he only really wanted Hermione over this summer.

"You look fine dear, now hurry along," sighed the mirror Ron was staring into. Disturbed from his revere with a jolt he dried off his face with a worn towel and headed downstairs, maybe Hermione would know how to act around Harry, or at least that's what he hoped.

Revived and awake Ron finally made it downstairs and walked straight into chaos. Mrs Weasley was running from one side of the kitchen to the other muttering under her breath, "I bet they haven't fed him again, why Dumbledore thinks it's so important I don't know, poor poor boy-"

She broke off when she saw Ron, "Oh good morning dear," she greeted, "nice to know that you've decided to join us in the land of the awake." Unceremoniously she cast some toast onto the table and he gladly devoured the breakfast. "You're Father has already gone to collect our guests by floo since _some people_ took an age getting up this morning. And Ron please try to eat sensib-"Her incessant advice (otherwise known as nagging) was interrupted by a disturbance in the front room, "That must be them."

But Ron hardly heard as he raced out of the room to greet his friends. Coughing as he entered the slightly smoky space he spied his Father leave the grate somewhat gracefully in comparison to the two that stumbled out behind him.

"Still not used to floo then guys," Ron laughed at their sooty faces. Harry laughed back and Hermione glared. But Ron could see the smile tugging at her lips and a moment later she'd swung her arms around him. Slightly surprised Ron returned the welcoming hug after a moments hesitation.

Unfortunately the bliss didn't last long as Hermione pulled back. "Hi," she greeted sheepishly. Ron smiled back and for a second neither of them moved or realised that they were still pretty close to each other. But then Ron noticed his other best friend in the corner of his eye.

"Harry!" he greeted and promptly turned to. "How are you mate?" The question had been automatic and immediately Ron regretted his words as Harry's face became ashen as he mumbled that he was fine and then became silent. Luckily the uncomfortable silence was broken by the sound of balls of fluff hitting the window.

Surprised the three friends looked towards the glass and then towards the startled Mr Weasley, who had been talking to his wife, as he ran into the room and opened the window. "Molly how many times have I told you to leave this window open after you've cleaned it! Or at least leave some sort of marking," he yelled as she too exited the kitchen. He reached for the dazed animals. "Here you go kids," he smiled handing over the owls, "looks like your OWL results have finally arrived."

Hermione squealed and leapt for the envelope with her name on with joy while the boys hung back as if the paper would burn them. "Oh I wish these had come when I was home, I really wanted to be with my parents," Hermione sighed, then laughed as she saw the looks on her friends terrified faces, "Oh come on it wont be that bad."

Harry smiled thinly as he reached for his results and carefully opened them. Ron too went for his envelope and grudgingly opened it whilst Hermione and his parents watched on expectantly.

"Come on dear don't keep us in suspense," Mrs Weasley cooed with anticipation.

After finally getting into the envelope (not helped by his slightly shaking fingers) he gasped. Ron couldn't believe the paper he was looking at, "Bloody Hell!"

Hermione couldn't stand the suspense any longer, even forgetting to berate him for his swearing. "Just tell us what you got!" she said smiling.

"All exceeds expectations... acceptable for astronomy and... dear Merlin..."

"What? What is it?" The whole group was on tenterhooks.

"I got an outstanding... in potions."

The room stood silent in shock until Hermione screamed with pleasure and wrapped her arms around him again, closely followed by his mother who seemed to be wiping tears from her eyes. "Oh, well done Ron!"

"I can't believe it," he muttered, "there must be some sort of mistake. There has to be-"

Harry cut him off with the rustling of his own papers. "No Ron," he explained but there was no excitement in his voice, "We got pretty much the same only I got outstanding in defence against the dark arts."

"Harry that's brilliant!" Hermione shrieked but Harry didn't seem very enthused.

"Yeah," he sighed, "I suppose potions is easier without that prat breathing down your neck."

"Harry," Hermione began to berate but then stopped herself when she saw the flash of anger in his eyes. Breaking the silence Molly asked Hermione what her own grades were glancing at the unopened envelope. The atmosphere of joy and anticipation quickly returned as she began to fumble with the paper but after a couple of seconds there were still no tearing sounds.

"Come on Hermione, open your results," Ron urged. Only now she just stared at the parchment.

"I can't," she whispered.

"What?"

"All my results are in here. What if I failed? What would I do? What would mom and dad say?" she was becoming hysterical.

"Whoah, don't be stupid. Of course you haven't failed," Ron soothed, glancing at his mom for help.

"I'm sure that you did fine dear," said Mrs Weasley, "and you'll see that as soon as you open the envelope."

"I can't."

Ron was starting to become slightly impatient, "Hermione you'll have done fi-"

"Will you do it?" she interrupted pushing the envelope into his hands.

"If your sure..." Hermione nodded her head, her whole body shaking with nerves as Ron opened the letter and read her results.

After a few seconds silence everyone was still stood waiting for the results.

'What?" he asked, "you asked me to open the letter you didn't say anything about telling you the results." He grinned at their cries of indignation and handed the parchment back to his friend, who was now close to exploding. "Outstanding in everything, Hermione. Bloody brilliant as usual."

Mrs Weasley enveloped the now crying girl into a warm hug exclaiming her congratulations along with Mr Weasley and Ron. Harry muttered a "well done" and Ron caught his eye after yet another hug from Hermione. Gently Mrs Weasley guided her family into the kitchen where she would conjure a celebratory lunch but Harry held back.

"Hey Harry, looks like we can both be Aurors," grinned Ron trying to draw his mate out.

"Yeah," Harry muttered back, "I'm just going outside for a minute okay. Been cooped up with the Dursleys all holiday an all that." With that he gave Ron a seemingly genuine, but completely fake, smile and disappeared outside.

"Sure mate," Ron replied, though he doubted that his friend heard, or even cared.

AN: Further updating information can be found in my bio.


	2. In Which There is Plot

Disclaimer: Nothing I own

In Which There is Plot

"Ron. Ron! Slow down," Hermione puffed as she ran along side her redheaded friend whose legs were definitely stretched too far.

"I'm only walking."

"Yes but you're walking with legs that are a lot longer than mine!"

Hermione stopped to catch her breath as Ron opened a classroom door, glanced inside and then slammed it shut.

"Look Hermione, I never said that you _had_ to come with me."

"No you didn't but if I hadn't come and you found him... well who knows what you'd have done."

Ron paused in the slamming of the next door down the corridor, "Why do you think I'd do something bad?"

"Maybe because you're making such a huge racket when it's almost curfew- you're inviting trouble and _obviously_ not thinking clearly."

"Obviously." Ron muttered dryly and returned to scouting the rooms, this time however the door made a soft thud rather than a ruckus bang.

Hermione sighed as Ron turned around the corner of the passageway and strode up the staircase at the end. Huffing slightly she followed. "Are you really going to go traipsing all over the whole school looking for him?" she asked, but Ron ignored her. "Maybe he just needs more time." This got his full attention.

"More time. _More _time. Hermione it's _February_ he's had seven months to get over Sirius." He bit back his words. "Sorry," he breathed, "it's just that... it's getting to me y'know."

"I know," she agreed and placed a consolatory hand on his shoulder, "but the Harry's changed and he's been through a lot. Our best friend from a couple of years ago hadn't brought back V...Voldemort, and he certainly hadn't seen the last member of his family that cares about him die without a body to truly mourn over. Maybe he's been through too much to talk to us yet, we just have to be patient," she sighed and looked gloomily at the worn floor beneath their feet, "I don't think he'll ever be the innocent little boy you met on the train ever again and, to be honest, I don't think we will be either."

"I never knew that you were a little boy Hermione," Ron quipped in an effort to lighten the mood that had darkened with the sunset. She removed her hand from his shoulder and used it to gently hit him on the arm, a weak smile playing on her lips. "But its more than that," Ron continued, returning to his serious tone, "he's not talking to us, he disappears at odd times and don't think I haven't noticed that him, the cloak and the map don't stay in the dorm most nights. Hell, they were gone tonight." Hermione stared at the ground drinking in his words. "I know that I can't say it's more than just losing someone 'cause there's nothing _just_ about that but Hermione... he's just... he's not." He gave up trying to put his gut feeling into words.

Hermione looked into his eyes and smiled slightly. "What?" he asked.

"Well I suppose that I can now grudgingly admit that you have the emotional range of a teacup as oppose to that of a spoon."

"Thanks," he muttered dryly, dragging his eyes from hers and returned to the fruitless 'Harry Scouting'.

As they delved deeper into the school the classrooms became more disused and the floor dustier. The portraits became unfamiliar and Hermione felt a twinge in her stomach at the thought of soon becoming lost. Desperate to get rid of the silly nerves she restarted the conversation.

"So what are you going to say when you find him?"

"Well first I'll stun him so he can't run away from answering-"

"Ron!"

"-then I'll ask him why he's been pushing everyone away that tries to talk to him and why he's been glaring at Dumbledore ever since we came back."

"And what are you going to say when he has tears in his eyes and yells at you that he's just lost his Godfather."

By now they had checked the outside grounds and over half the rooms of the school: classrooms, closets, hidden passageways, they'd even been to the room of requirement three times and Ron was ready to snap.

"I won't believe him!"

"Fine. Go on, I've had enough of this! I take back what I said- you _are_ emotionally stunted. Just because he's male doesn't mean that he can't grieve! _You_ can spend all night looking but I'm going to the common room, which is where he probably is by now!" the echoes of Hermione's yells were quickly joined by those of her stomping footfalls as she stormed her way back the way they'd come.

"Fine!" Ron yelled back and opened another door.

Suddenly a brilliant bright, yet silent, white flash filled the corridor blinding him and causing Hermione to turn back in surprise. "Ron!" she called desperately as she stared at the spot he'd been standing in only seconds before to see no one there. Moving on reflex she ran to the door only to find it gone, in its place stood the doorframe filled with a wall of stone.

Up stairs in two identical places, in two identical offices, two identical timers clicked into place beginning with the identical numbers of 2,592,000. At their two identical desks two identical headmasters raised their identical eyebrows in surprise.

Ron blinked away his temporary blindness from the light and stared at the corridor around him trying to work out what had just happened. In front of him the doorway had filled with stone and he turned to ask Hermione what the hell was going on when he saw that the wall wasn't the only thing that had changed. In front, staring at him with eyes wide with disbelief stood his long missing best mate. He seemed to be guarding Hermione, who had the same look of shock echoed on her face.

"There you are H-"Ron began only to be cut off as Harry raised his wand.

Suddenly the world went black.

AN: thankyou to my one revewer, hint hint, and i'm still really desperate for a beta. Please.


	3. The Theory of Many Worlds

Disclaimer: Own I not

The Theory of Many Worlds

Slowly Ron opened his eyes and tried to ignore the thudding headache that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He was lying down and quickly recognised the familiar feel of the bed sheets of the Hogwarts infirmary, outside the drawn curtains he could hear raised voices.

"But sir this is impossible!" yelled Harry his words thick with emotion, "The person in that bed can not be Ronald Weasley!"

Dumbledore's soft tones carried easily through the thin material divide, "I'm sorry Harry but that is Mr. Weasley." At Harry's disbelieving humph the curtain was pulled back to reveal a row of empty beds, it seemed that the only people present were Harry and Dumbledore until something at the back shifted and Ron realised that Hermione seemed to be hiding in the shadows keeping as far away from him as possible. There was no sign of Madam Pomfrey. "Good evening Mr Weasley I'm glad to see you've awoken from Mr Potter's enthusiastic stunning."

Ron's head was in turmoil. Harry had stunned him. His _best friend_ had bloody knocked him out and was now saying that he was some kind of impostor!

"Professor... what's going on?" he mumbled trying to clear the confusion.

The head teacher looked down on him sympathetically, "Mr Weasley could you please tell me what you were doing down that corridor."

"I was looking for him," Ron said pointing a glare at Harry before returning his eyes to Dumbledore, "Harry had disappeared _again_," obviously his anger at being stunned meant that he really didn't care about getting his friend into trouble, "and we were looking for him. Ask Hermione."

At this the figure in the shadows shifted uncomfortably but Harry diverted all attention. "That isn't true!" he yelled, "_Me_ and Hermione were down that corridor discussing-"he shot a glance at Ron and changed whatever he was really about to say, "...things when there's this blinding light and suddenly _he_ appears. This has got to be some kind of cruel joke." Harry almost whispered the last part and seemed to deflate as he collapsed into a chair beside the bed. "A really cruel joke."

"This is no joke Harry this is in fact all very real." Everyone in the room turned to the old wizard awaiting an explanation, "What do you know, Mr Weasley, of muggle scientists?" A flash of puzzlement appeared on every face around the room.

"Er... I know that they try to work out how things in the muggle world work, like ekeleckricity." Ron was half surprised when Hermione didn't jump in with a dictionary definition of a scientist's vocation.

"One area of science is quantum physics where muggles of intelligence study subatomic particles." At the blank look from Ron, Dumbledore explained how muggles believed that the universe was made up of atoms of protons and electrons- Harry and Hermione knew something of the science from their own muggle heritage but they were almost just as lost. "To summarise, he continued, there are some scientists who believe that these particles exist in a way that creates parallel universes. Some call this the 'Many Worlds' theory, and Ron when you stepped through that door you proved that theory- you are in an alternate universe."

"What?" interrupted the two boys in unison and disbelief.

"Imagine that every particle has the choice of x or y and that in that instance it duplicates itself so creating a parallel world where the only difference is that decision. Of course that can create other consequences later on."

"I still don't understand," said Ron shaking his head in disbelief.

"I'm saying," said Dumbledore, "that for every decision taken in this world another is created so that both conclusions can take place."

"So there's a world out there where Tom Riddle never chose to become Voldemort."

"Harry there is a world out there where there is no evil at all."

"So the room I walked into..."

"Was the Room of Many Worlds and I'm sure that it's a place that many physicists would love to explore," smiled Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye.

Ron thought for a moment," So does that mean that back in my world the others

* * *

could be having the exact same conversation that we are." finished Hermione. The difference being that she and Harry were sitting in Dumbledore's office, without Ron, and that there was an odd timer sitting on his well used desk.

"Indeed Hermione they probably are."

After the shock of Ron's disappearance Hermione had headed to Dumbledore's office as fast as her legs would carry her. On the way she ran into Harry and dragged him along without explanation eventually reaching the Headmaster's room where she'd stumbled upon the password and raced up the rotating staircase, there she'd somehow stuttered out the story of what had happened. Curiously Dumbledore had seemed to know the past events even as she staggered through the doorway.

"So there's a doorway to ever world out there... or here... or in the same place?" spoke a still slightly confused Harry.

"Not all worlds," explained Dumbledore, "In some Hogwarts was never created, in others no magic, there will be places where no world exists at all and so nowhere for the doors to connect to."

"But Sir why did the door itself disappear?" asked Hermione.

"This world and whichever place Mr Weasley is currently visiting are now connected together, the doorway will reopen as soon this timer reaches zero." He drew attention to the antique machine on his desk. The timer was a rectangular shape about thirty centimetres long and filled with seven individual black wooded rollers that had the numbers zero to nine written on, except for the first that only had two to zero. As each second passed the rollers moved, it seemed that the number had already decreased by several hundred since the unobtrusive object had caught Dumbledore's eye when it had reset and begun to tick. "Ronald Weasley may return home in thirty days time."

"A month! Do you mean to tell me that he's going to be stuck in a world that we know nothing about for a month!? Not once in Hogwarts a History are such rooms mentioned, why do such horrible rooms have a place in this school?" The sudden loss of Ron had shaken Hermione to the core especially as the last words they'd shared were filled with anger.

"Hermione has a point sir. How come this hasn't happened before?"

"How do we know that it hasn't?" spoke Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye. "Remember that though it may not have happened here during our lifetimes it does not mean that two other worlds have not been connected or that our own door hasn't been used since the time of the founders. Such a room could be used in the wrong manner. I have often found during my time here that sometimes Hogwarts has its own reasons for doing things."

This didn't satisfy any of the trio- no matter which world they were in.

AN: Thankyou to all my lovely reviewers- I did have u all listed individually but i'vehad to reload this chaapter and I havn't got enough time now.

Just some answers then:

this fic will be updated every friday and you can see the progress on my authors page (for those that don't know click on my name at the top)

I do now have a wonderful beta nattieb, I'd like to thank her for her help and also thank all those that offered- but i'll never turn down constructive critism.

finally i'd like to add that this theory actually exists- but there's a little more maths to it and you wont find it at Hogwarts... hmm... or maybe there is a Hogwarts somewhere out there.


	4. Appearances can be decieving

Disclaimer: Own not I

Appearances Can Be Deceiving

Back in the alternate world Dumbledore knew that certain precautions would have to be taken. "Mr Weasley I regret to inform you that I cannot have you running around this school and terrifying my students."

"So your going to keep me locked up for a month?" Ron quailed. Who knew what weird ways they had in this universe?

"Nothing quite so drastic," the headmaster smiled, "just a little change of identity." As he spoke Dumbledore waved his wand over Ron's still prone body and muttered an unfamiliar incantation. Ron felt as if someone had dripped ice cold water onto his head and reached up to touch his hair trying to shake off the odd tingling sensation. "There we are," Dumbledore spoke as he stood to leave the room, "no one will recognise you without that distinctive red hair, its amazing what people will not see when they do not want to. Your name is now Robert Millings and your parents have enrolled you into Hogwarts from a wizarding high school in Staffordshire, it is not an odd occurrence in the present climate. Harry, Hermione," he nodded to the teenagers, "I suggest you look after Mr Millings here and stop him from saying anything inappropriate. Goodnight, I suggest that you all get some sleep. Stay here for tonight and return to your dormitories tomorrow, you will not be disturbed."

If Harry and Hermione were confused by the old man's ominous comments they didn't show it, in fact just the opposite as their faces suddenly became stony with seriousness. Ron could only hope that his questions would be answered soon as Dumbledore left the ward shutting the door with a quiet, but definite, thud behind him.

Instantly the room became thick with tension as the three 'friends' regarded each other, desperate to break the silence Ron spoke first, "So what's the mad man done to my hair then?" The comment wasn't really funny but it managed to restore some sense of normalcy.

"Worried about your hair Ron, not turning into Malfoy are you?" Harry joked also trying his best to lay some foundations.

"Just give me a damn mirror will you."

Harry quickly glanced around the room to no avail but Ron's attention was drawn to Hermione as for the first time that evening she came near to him and handed over a hand mirror she'd had in her book bag. He wasn't sure what surprised him more: the way she retreated as quickly as possible after handing it over, that she hadn't commented on his swearing or that she was carrying a mirror.

Ignoring the disconcerting feeling growing in his stomach Ron looked at his reflection. Every stand of shocking red hair had disappeared under a drenching of black; he also made a mental note to grow his hair longer when he got home, as it seemed to suit him. If Bill could get away with it then he certainly could. The only other difference he could see was that his freckles had faded to fit in better with the new colour.

"So what do you think?" he asked and dramatically lifted his hands and ran them through his new hair. But the other two were no longer looking at his head but at his arms where the sleeves of his robes had riled up- where the scars showed.

"How did you get those?" Harry asked obviously confused and sounding slightly distressed, "What happened?" Hermione had also drawn closer.

"Oh nothing. So what's the quidditch like here? " he deflected and tried to pull the material down to cover the unattractive marks still boiled into the skin after last year.

"Ron! Don't even try to change the subject." Hermione may be quiet in this world but that didn't stop her from knowing him way to well.

"Fine," Ron gave up. "They're from last year when we- I mean my Harry and Hermione- went to the Ministry of Magic at the end of last year."

Harry leaned in closer and sat on the end of the bed, intrigued by the story, "What were you doing at the Ministry?"

"Saving Sirius of course. Well that was until it turned out to be a trap."

"Sirius?" "Trap?" Harry and Hermione asked respectfully and at the same time.

Ron heard Hermione's question the clearest and promptly answered, "Harry had been seeing You-Know-Who in his dreams, being him or watching him I'm not sure."

"Same thing here carry on," Harry prompted.

"Well You-Know-Who decided to use it against my Harry by deliberately sending him dreams of rooms which he later recognised as being part of the mystery experimental part of the ministry. But that still didn't get him there so You-Know-Who set a trap by sending images of someone he cared for being tortured. We all went. Oh, he tried to stop us of course but if you leave Harry alone he'll try to play the hero- no offence. So we got there, and well, we didn't lose but we didn't exactly win either. "

"I don't understand," asked Harry, "Why did Voldemort want me- him there?"

"To get a prophecy. Didn't work though because it got broken in the fight and no one heard it."

"No one?" Hermione said looking slightly surprised.

"Nope. We have no idea what it said."

"Why didn't you just ask Dumbledore?" she pressed.

"Dumbledore?"

"Yeah he told me as soon I told him about the dreams I'd been having in the middle of the fourth year."

"Fourth year!?" Ron leant his head back in shock, breathing deeply, "Maybe in our world it couldn't be gotten from the Ministry."

"Ron you dolt he was there when it was made, Dumbledore has always known what it said." Harry explained.

Something at the back of Ron's mind was clicking into place; an explanation for his friend's behaviour was just beyond the line of comprehension, "So just what does this prophesy say?"

Suddenly Harry shifted uncomfortably and couldn't look him in the eye.

"Harry what does it say?"

"It says... it says..."

"It says that it's him or Voldemort," Hermione cut in, "for one to live the other must die, that's why he's been after Harry from the beginning."

For the first time in his life that he could remember Ron was speechless.

"Of course it may be different in your world," Harry tried to console but Ron's head was full of memories from last year: the avoidance of Dumbledore, the cutting off of his friends- suddenly it all made sense.

"The stupid -! He _knows_." Ron called out in epiphany and stared directly at Harry, "You mate, are an idiot."

"What?"

"You kept it to yourself."

"No _your _Harry did that."

"Actually Harry," Hermione interrupted, "You almost did do that. The only reason any of us know about the prophecy is because we wouldn't leave when Dumbledore told us to. In fact if I remember correctly you cut yourself off for a couple of months during the last part of fourth year in fear of Voldemort hurting someone close to you. That was until Ron knocked some sense into you- literally."

Ron was intrigued, "What happened?"

"You, I mean my Ron, hit him. Told Harry here that it didn't matter how hard he tried he wasn't going after the- now what was it," she paused in remembrance," ah yes- 'dark, evil git' alone."

After the little anecdote from this world it seemed that the floor was much more interesting than what rested on top of it as Hermione wouldn't look Ron in the eye. She wouldn't look at him at all and still kept her distance.

For the first time Ron realised what was wrong with this picture- it wasn't wrong at all. "Where am I?" he asked.

"Infirmary," Harry replied innocently.

"No. The other me, the other Ron. Where is he?"

Suddenly Harry seemed to find the floor very interesting as well.

Ron felt his temper flare with annoyance, "There is nothing at all interesting about that bloody floor now tell me where this world's Ron is!"

"He's dead! Deceased! Six foot under!" Hermione spat, "Happy now? You've got your answer now. Harry you can answer the rest of his questions, I can't be here right now." She quickly fled the room slamming the door behind her.

"What just happened?" asked a shocked Ron.

Harry got up and ran his hands through his hair, "How would you feel if your best friend died six months ago and then when your chatting to your other best friend suddenly there's this flash of white light. Next thing you know Dumbledore's telling you that your dead friend has come back to life."

"That's why you hexed me."

"Yeah, I thought you were a trap, a trick, something evil anyway."

"And now Hermione hates me."

"I honestly don't think that she could never hate you mate but... well it may have been worse for her. Not that it wasn't bad for me," Harry quickly backtracked.

"Nice to know you care mate." Ron gave a weak smile, which Harry returned.

"Just don't joke about this around Hermione." Ron nodded his consent while Harry disappeared into the bathroom over the other side of the rectangular room. "Well, looks like I'm sleeping here tonight according to Dumbledore. Someone's got to keep you out of trouble and it doesn't look like Hermione's going to want to do that any time soon," Harry called out over the sound of running water.

The previously redheaded teenager remembered Dumbledore's earlier cryptic comments, "Hey, what inappropriate comments am I not meant to make?"

"I'll tell you in the morning," Harry mumbled as he climbed into the bed beside him, "but not asking where Ronald Weasley is would be a good start. Goodnight Robert Millings."

"Good night Harry."

* * *

AN: I would now like to thank all of my patient reviewers. I love you all!!!

**Tinker1704**-I got the idea for this story from the Many Worlds theory so I needed it in here somewhere and I really didn't want to make it complicated in any way but still mention something from where it comes from- and are you clear about the Ron situation now? Don't worry there's more coming up on that.

**Jewel**- see I've thought about that little problem

MyLuckyStars 

**Meeee**- There is more coming

**emanym **

**Karla Marie**- Updates will be on Friday, blame fanfiction and time differences if it doesn't get there till Saturday.

**Grimm Sister**- I hope that it's slowly getting clearer

**Hey,I'mTalkingtoYou **

**loonygrl90 **

**Broken Rain **

**Trevorthetoadsmybestfriend **

**BrodyLuverGirl **

**BrownPryde**

And finally a huge thank you to nattieb my wonderful beta.


	5. Temperamental Temporal Differences

Discliamer: Not own I

Temperamental Temporal Differences

In the morning sunlight filled the infirmary and was quickly joined by the groans of two adolescent boys.

"You do know that you two don't really harmonise with the dawn chorus don't you?" Came a strong feminine voice from the entrance door to the infirmary.

Both of the bodies in the beds grumbled at the unwanted interruption as Hermione slammed the door shut loudly in her own version of an alarm clock.

"That would be because, as teenagers, we're not meant to get up in the morning at all," grumbled Harry, his voice muffled by the covers.

"Ha Ha. Now up both of you or I'll get some nice cold water and drop it on your heads."

"Fine we're up, we're up," Ron sighed and made his way over to the bathroom. Halfway across the infirmary floor he woke up. "Hermione! We're half dressed! Get out!"

"Ron you are not half dressed, now stop exaggerating and get cleaned up. I've brought you both some breakfast. Oh, and I've brought up our timetable's so you can compare it with your usual one."

"Do you mean to say that yesterday wasn't a horrible nightmare that my overactive imagination made up?"

"Just go get changed," she deadpanned.

Taking the hint he continued on his journey across the room and shut the bathroom door behind him, through the wood he could hear Hermione turn her attention to Harry. Looking around the room nothing seemed to have changed: the smells were the same, the sights, the glug of the plumbing- it was all the alike. And yet... and yet it wasn't. Back home, wherever that was, he hadn't had a conversation like that with both his friends for months. Well maybe with Hermione, but Harry had been getting up earlier than the rest of the dorm since school had started and only recently had he begun appearing at breakfast.

Ron shook away these unsettling thoughts with a splash of cold water only to have them replaced by more as he saw what he was wearing. Hermione was right in saying that he wasn't exactly naked; instead he was covered from head to toe in orange. Someone had obviously found out his favourite sleeping attire- a Chudley Cannons strip- seems things really weren't that different here even if the colour no longer clashed with his hair. Except the Ron who these clothes belonged to didn't exist anymore, he was dead.

Dead. Well that was quite a change. What the hell had caused it? He'd have to ask Harry; after all, Hermione's explosion last night had made it quite clear that she wasn't the best one to talk to.

The bathroom door reopened. "Morning," Harry grunted as he joined Ron at a second basin and turned on the cold water tap.

"This toast is getting cold!" they heard from inside the infirmary.

"Why isn't she still biting my head off?" Ron asked confused by Hermione's almost cheerful behaviour.

"She's just coping with the unbelievable in her own way."

"By ignoring it?" Ron asked in disbelief.

"Basically yeah.'

"Hurry up we've got class in ten minutes!" Hermione called again.

"Merlin she doesn't change whatever world she's in."

"C'mon mate, hurry up before she comes in here and really sees something she shouldn't. Though I bet that wouldn't upset you too much." Harry grinned as Ron pushed him into the wall.

Ron stopped grinning suddenly and asked the issue that had been playing on his mind since last night, "Hey, Harry how did I, I mean he, die?"

Harry paused mid wash in indecision, "Lets hurry up. Don't want to be late do we." It seemed he chose to simply ignore the question.

Minutes later both boys appeared having changed into fresh school robes that had been brought by a helpful house elf. Ron walked over to Hermione, who was starting to pace with impatience, and took his timetable from her hands. Their fingers touched as he grasped the parchment and she leapt back in shock, a mix of emotions flashing over her face. Hiding her drastic reaction she turned towards a window on the back wall and pretended to be interested in the view. Ron was sorely tempted to question her but stopped when Harry shot him a look, instead he glanced at the class list in his hand.

"This is exactly the same as my usual lot. Can't believe that I passed potions here as well," Ron spoke to Hermione but she ignored him.

Harry filled the silence, "You- he- our Ron never found that out. He... left us before we got our results."

"Well lets get to Charms then," Hermione broke in, her voice choking slightly, "don't want to be late do we?" She chirpily faked and quickly ran out of the room.

"Why is she like that?" Ron asked, "Every time it comes up or I go near her she runs away and I really don't want to say its because she's a girl- even if she isn't here to scold me for it."

"Lets grab our books and I'll tell you. I'm sure Dumbledore will have sorted out what you need."

They hurried to the Gryffindor Tower knowing they still had a little time before the bell went- Hermione always exaggerated by five minutes to make sure they got everywhere on time. Soon they were up in the boy's dormitories and Ron found a few changes, the main one being an influx of beds. The one he usually slept in was coverless and a new piece of identical furniture had appeared to the right of it.

"Harry?" Ron voiced his question with a distinct look towards the sleeping arrangements.

"Oh, if we lose someone we leave the bed but there have been some new students over the last couple of years and they simply get a brand new place. It would just be too weird for them to use the olds ones if you know what I mean. That's why no one'll think it too odd that you- or rather Robert Millings- is here. I think this one's yours," he indicated the recent item, "it really wouldn't be right for you to use his bed, especially not for the others. Luckily you, him, I mean our Ron, is the only loss the sixth year Gryff boys have had. Most of yo- his belongings went to your, I mean his, family. God this is so confusing."

The last mutter Ron didn't hear as he went to investigate his bed, or rather _his_ old one, maybe he'd find an insight into life in this world.

As well as being striped the area was quite bare except for a couple of photos. Slowly he reached for them slightly worried about what he'd find. There were three: the first was of his family nothing had changed there, the second showed the trio with him in the middle, the figures waved at him with smiles on their faces, but the last made him gasp in surprise. The final photo showed two people very wrapped up in each other, Hermione's arms were locked around his photographic duplicate and every few moments the two of them would lean in and kiss lightly on the lips.

Harry had turned when he'd heard Ron's sharp intake of breath and looked over his surprised friends shoulder to see what was wrong, "Are you two not together in your world?"

"No!" he couldn't drag his eyes from the photo, "I mean not that I didn't want there to be anything but I never actually asked... When this happen?" Ron looked directly at Harry.

"Well, that picture was taken about a year ago but you started going out in fourth year."

"Fourth year," Ron sighed, in deep envy of his twin. He glanced back at the photo and his mind became so lost in ifs, maybes and hows that he didn't hear the bell ring.

"Come on Ron, you really don't want to be late for Professor Umbridge," Harry said grabbing their books with one hand and Ron's arm with the other, pulling him towards the doorway

Ron finally came out of his daze and slipped the photo into his pocket, "Umbridge? I thought you said we have charms!"

AN: Thankyou all you wonderful reviewers and especially to nattieb my beta. Finally I'd like to add that the next installment is at least twice as long.

Bye till next Fri!


	6. Professor Umbridge

Disclaimer: Not I own

Professor Umbridge

The pathway he trod was so familiar and the sights and sounds so much the same that Ron found it very easy not to remember which world he was in. Harry had merely answered his question with a confused look and it had been all too easy to forget that he wasn't home during the rush to class, that was until Harry opened the door to the Charms room.

At sight of the horror before him Ron was certain that a boggart had escaped from its wardrobe, for there behind the desk it sat.

"What the hell?" Ron gaped open mouthed at the nightmare in a fluffy pink cardigan with a black bow upon its head- Delores Umbridge.

An elbow in the stomach interrupted him. "Shut up!" Harry hissed and pushed Ron down into a spare seat at a table that the third member of the newly reconstructed trio had saved for them at the back of the classroom. Hermione gave a slight huff at their lateness as Harry sat next to her acting as a clear barrier between herself and Ron preventing him from making eye contact. His thoughts began to wander back to the photo in his pocket, however these pleasant thoughts were quickly disrupted when the spawn of evil spoke.

"Good afternoon!" the toad croaked enthusiastically.

"Good afternoon Professor Umbridge," the class reverberated around the room.

"Wands away and quills out please. Today we will be learning about the Expanding Charm..."

Ron listened to every carefully chosen word she said but that didn't mean that he actually _heard_ any of it. Where was Flitwick? And worse, where was the indignation? Yes, he hadn't particularly enjoyed Harry losing house points and gaining detention every lesson of the week last year but even that was better than sitting in this class. No one spoke, no one questioned and believe it or not Umbridge actually seemed to be doing the slightest bit of teaching.

"Can anyone tell me why these charms are dangerous to use around muggles? How about you Mr... Millings?" she said her gaze falling on Ron.

Ron was brought to the surface of his thoughts by a kick in the shin from Harry. It was then he realised that the awful teacher was talking to him and also that his pause had unintentionally brought the attention of the whole class. Sitting at the back of a room does work well for those wishing avoiding notice but not when you're the new boy, suddenly he wished he were at the front of the classroom where he could only see the blackboard stare at him.

"Well, Mr Millings?"

"Err," Ron could only stutter.

"I don't know what it was like at your last school young man but here when I speak I expect to be listened to."

"Sorry," he grunted.

"What was that, I didn't quite hear," she glared.

"Sorry, Professor Umbridge."

"Good boy." Her patronising voice addressed the rest of the room, "Can anyone answer my question?"

Seamus' hand wavered grudgingly but Ron had already returned to his ponderings. The last words he heard before zoning out mentioned something about muggles being frightened of magic and how even a suitcase seeming larger on the inside than it was meant to be was a serious danger to wizarding life.

Ten minutes of shocked wonderings later he realised that the rest of the class were frantically writing notes. Ron glanced to Harry beside him and tried to take in what they were meant to be doing. Grudgingly he opened his own borrowed charms book to chapter seventeen and started to copy the words down mechanically. Eventually when Umbridge became bored of smiling sweetly at the students and began her own work Ron scribbled a quick note to Harry.

_**Since when has Umbridge taught charms?** _

Surreptitiously he slid the paper over to his friend only to have Harry glance at it and then carry on working.

_**Harry, why are you ignoring me?** _

Ron tried again, though this time he unwittingly caught Hermione's attention at the same time. She looked over to see what was distracting Harry and glared when she saw the small slips covered with Ron's untidy scrawl. Carefully she reached into her bag whilst keeping her eyes on the professor, who it seemed hadn't noticed the lack of work being done on the back table. Quietly she retrieved her wand and, with the tiniest of movements, waved it muttering the incantation "incendio" under her breath. Ron shrank from her glare as his one-sided conversational notes to Harry were burnt to a crisp with a fine puff of smoke. Hermione gave him one final accusing look and, with a shake of her slightly frizzy, loose hair, returned to her work. Harry showed him a half-hearted consolatory smile before restarting his own class work. Utterly lost, confused and frankly disheartened, Ron turned back to the book in front of him and unsuccessfully tried to regain any sense of concentration.

* * *

"What were you thinking!?" Hermione hissed as they left the classroom at the end of the lesson, "I thought you said that you'd passed your owls- or were you deliberately acting stupid in there!"

"She's right Ron," Harry added, much to Ron's annoyance, "You really didn't want to attract Umbrigde's attention.

Ron's eyes were wide with indignation, "Oh, and how well would you be able to concentrate when the banshee you got rid of _last year_ is standing in front of you because you're in _another world_."

"Probably about as well as you could concentrate with your dead best friend sitting next to you!" Harry spat back. "Ron you have _no idea_ of how much danger you could have just put us in."

"Then tell me!"

"Fine," Hermione whispered harshly, "but not here."

All three realised that they were arguing in a very public corridor, Harry lowered his eyes in shame and Ron's ear's twinged red with embarrassment.

"Where then?" Ron asked not willing to let this go.

"The Room of Requirement?" Hermione asked looking at Harry for agreement.

"Yeah, that should do," he replied, "we've got an free lesson now which gives us a clear hour till lunch."

"Are you sure? I thought they were double checking registration." Her voice carried a conspiratorial edge; Ron was completely lost by the conversation.

"No, we're fine." Harry reassured her, "It's Lupin's job today, he'll cover us."

Hermione nodded in agreement and led the group towards the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Ron followed demurely behind silently wishing that he had a note pad and paper with him to log down the hundreds of questions that were constantly flitting around his mind.

Luckily the corridors were clear and the three students reached the unobtrusive room with little difficulty. Inside there stood a harsh wooden table with two chairs on one side and one on the other.

"Okay who was it that wanted an interrogation?" Ron asked, surprised as he'd expected a cosier place to talk.

"What were you expecting? An informal chat?" Hermione wasn't unkind in her explanation, "Ron we can't afford to lose track of time."

With that reminder they sat down: Ron on one side, his otherworldly counterparts on the other.

"Go on then Ron, first question." Harry asked.

"How did I die?"

Short and to the point. The two shifted uneasily glancing at each other in silent words and passing the buck in a soundless 'you do it, no you do it' conversation. Finally Hermione cleared her throat and answered disjointedly, "You were murdered in the dormitories, advada, no one could do anything. Harry was there."

"It was my fault,"

"Harry!" she interrupted harshly, "We have discussed this; it was _not_ your fault."

"It was about three in the morning," Harry continued after nodding to Hermione in non-verbal half acceptance of what she'd said, "A man appeared out of nowhere but he wasn't very quiet- tripped over a trunk. You, our Ron, woke up when he heard the noise, shouted the alarm. It worked and others came but not before... not before the attacker had sent a killing curse my way. I moved but I wasn't quick enough- got wrapped up in the bloody sheets- but you were there and... you took it."

The room seemed to grow darker with the telling of the morbid story and all of the questions that had been running through Ron's mind stopped. It was as if his brain was full to the brim with so many that it had collapsed in on itself allowing one final thought to circle,

Ron spoke the thought out loud, "That's good to know. I'm glad it was like that." The other two stared at him seeming to will him into expounding. "I've always wondered," Ron continued, "what I'd do. Would I do what I hoped I would- be willing to sacrifice myself?" He looked directly at Harry, "Or would I run away, would I let you down? I'm glad I know now that I'd do the right thing. This world isn't that different from my own, I can only hope that I live up to the standards set when I get home."

"Don't you dare be a martyr." Hermione hissed, an edge of begging in her voice.

Feeling the change in mood to something more personal between Ron and Hermione Harry changed the subject, "Shall we work out what the difference is then- what caused the split."

The other two nodded though Ron made a mental note to have a talk with Hermione later about the picture now burning by his leg.

"Okay, so first year," Hermione began, "we all meet, become friends over a troll and I show off my brilliant logical skills." She gave a thin smile to the weak injection of humour in an attempt to lighten the room and the torches giving light seemed to burn brighter.

Harry picked up the checklist speaking style, "Second year Chamber of secrets, idiot Lockheart."

The speed picked up as familiar memories were shared, "Third year save your Godfather," Ron smiled.

"What?" both questioned in surprise. Instantly there was another mood shift.

"Third year," Ron continued with a sinking feeling in his stomach, "You two use Hermione's time turner to save Buckbeak and Black, who then sail off into the sunset."

"How did you know that I had a time turner?" Hermione asked shocked, "I never told anyone."

"What the hell is a time turner?" Harry asked glancing between the two in confusion. "And why exactly would you save that murdering bastard," suspicion filled his voice.

"Sirius was not a murderer!"

"Okay boys calm down we've found our split now we just have to corner it. Ron why don't you take us through your third year step by step." Hermione's diplomacy worked and the boys calmed their heated breaths.

"Well, you got the time turner at the start of the year, by the way that was very, very confusing. Buckbeak grazed Malfoy and was put on death row, oh yeah, you went and got that bloody awful cat and that coupled with the firebolt fiasco meant relations were a little strained. But everything was back to normal for Hagrid's trial, which we never actually saw and then Sirius grabbed me to get Wormtail. We got the real story but Snape arrived and Lupin turned wild- it all went wrong. I was out of it after that but my Hermione and Harry used the time turner to get Buckbeak to Sirius and save both of their lives as they flew into the sunset."

The two opposite sat in shock and for a moment Harry seemed to be fighting an inner struggle, "You're lying," he argued," Black died, kissed! And good riddance!"

"No!" Ron stood up with force knocking the chair back.

"Ron please try to understand," Hermione cut in, "That didn't happen here, when the dog took you a branch of the Willow got Black from behind. It knocked him out and as soon as his animagus form changed back to human the dementors were released by Fudge and the kiss was administered."

"I don't believe it," Ron muttered, leaning heavily on the table for support, "Every change, _every_ difference, caused by a bloody branch deciding to go in a different direction. Sirius." He gasped the final word feeling the pain of Padfoot's death all over again.

"You better believe it," Harry's fervour was almost frightening, "Black was a murderer, a traitor and the deatheater that brought back Voldemort!"

"Harry you're wrong, so wrong," Ron whispered torn between rage and depression, "he could no more support V- that monster- any more than you could." Seeing the hard dark pupils of Harry's eyes of true denial Ron gave up hope of restoring Sirius' name, at least for now. "I can't listen to this anymore," he muttered and left the room.

Hermione followed close behind leaving Harry alone in the shadowsfilling the Room of Requirement.

AN: I hope this answered some questions- but I'm not about to tell you everything yet am I :-)

Thank you my wonderful reviewers, especially those who are there for every chapter, I love your opinions. And a special thank you to nattieb who is the reason that this makes as much sense as it can does, though I know that that isn't much at the moment..


	7. A Picture Tells a Thousand Words No Matt

Disclaimer: I'm running out of word order options but you get the idea

A Picture Tells a Thousand Words No Matter Which World You're In

"Ron! Ron-bert" Hermione paused after receiving some odd looks from a couple of second years. "Rob! Slow down! I _know_ that you can hear me!"

Ron reluctantly slowed and she eventually caught up with him. She was breathing heavily from the exertion of chasing him down several corridors and a staircase.

"Ron," she admonished breathlessly, "you _cannot_ just run off on your own around here- you don't know the repercussions of your actions."

Ron ignored her warning and continued on. "So not into sports in this world either then Hermione?" he commented on her breathlessness as he strode on normally.

Confused by the complete change of subject her face crinkled with confusion.

"Well, in this world it seems that Umbridge is respected," he spat the word, "everyone is quite happy that Sirius is dead and I'm enjoying the after world with him- so it is good to know that I'd still have difficulties getting you onto a broomstick."

"Ron-b I know that this is difficult to accept," she continued over his snort, "but if you're right and Sirius is innocent then that means that the Order is wrong and that Harry's life for the past two and a half years has been a lie."

Ron stopped mid-stride and looked around to find his bearings. They were outside McGonagall's classroom- did she even still teach transfiguration here he wondered?

"Ron we need to get to the main hall for dinner- they'll be starting the register soon."

"The what?"

"The register, the way they keep tabs on where everyone is and make sure that they're not up to 'mischief'." she explained but that just left Ron even more lost.

"They?"

"Just come on." She went to tug on his robes but brought her hand back sharply when she realised what she was about to do. Instead she decided to lead by example turning away from Ron signalling for him to follow her.

Her uncomfortable behaviour reminded him of the photo still lingering unanswered in his pocket. Before she could get too far away Ron reached out and restrained her arm lightly. "Wait," he asked softly as she shrunk from his grasp, "I've got another question and we've still got a bit before lunch. Please."

"Ron," she sighed about to say no.

"It's about this." He reached into his pocket and showed her the photo. "We're going to have to talk about it sometime."

Hermione seemed taken aback by the picture; she searched his face trying to come to a decision and after another glance at the kissing figures she nodded slightly in consent. Ron sighed in relief that she hadn't blown up at him in the way he'd half expected her too. By contrast however the silent treatment was almost worse. He couldn't read her as she led the way into an empty classroom keeping up a façade of ease and confidence. Though he knew her well enough to recognise that inside her head the world was spinning.

Quietly she shut the door after checking that no one was around and chanted a quick silencing charm. Still keeping her face blank Hermione walked to the front of the room and leaned back on the teacher's desk. "What do you want to talk about then?" she questioned, her voice clear as it rung around the room, yet despite the fact that she looked in Ron's direction she couldn't meet his eyes.

"Harry said that we, sorry, I mean you and Ron," it still felt odd to refer to himself in the third person, even if that person had really existed, "got together during fourth year."

Hermione nodded. When she spoke again it was clear that the unemotional voice she used was the only defence she had against the 'stranger' in front of her, "Yes it was at Christmas."

Ron quickly thought back to the holiday of two years ago: the Goblet of Fire, the tournament-

"the Yule Ball!" he choked out in understanding.

Again Hermione merely nodded as a wealth of memories so different from his own filled her mind.

"But what about Vicky?"

"Vicky?" she questioned.

"Krum! Viktor bloody Krum, Triwizard Tournament runner up, quidditch superstar…"

"Oh, the one from Durmstrang. What about him?"

Ron spluttered incredulously. "What about him? What about him? He's only the guy that got there first bloody stupid, duck-footed, Bulgarian!"

"Ron don't swear."

He couldn't help it- he burst out laughing. The kind of laugh that borders the thin line to mad, maniacal screeching and Hermione's eye's filled with worry. Quickly she broke the distance between them and dragged him up to a standing position from the half crouched, stomach-clutching pose he had fallen into.

"Ron, Ron! What's wrong? You're starting to worry me."

Abruptly his laughter stopped and he stared into her wide brown eyes so close to his face, breathless, their noses almost touching.

The spell was broken when Hermione suddenly realised that she was still clinging onto his arm. She quickly backed away again and Ron felt an odd feeling in his gut. It felt like shame, like he'd pressed an advantage.

"I've been waiting for you to tell me off about my swearing ever since I got here" he explained with a smile attempting to ease the tension, "that's why I was laughing, it just reminded me of home so much and…"

"And it was either that or cry." Hermione finished for him, "As if your swamped, drowning, and the only way out is to let go- one way or the other."

"Well I am male, I can hardly cry over a bit of homesickness can I?" Ron laughed gently and Hermione smiled in return, it seemed that at least one barrier between them had been broken down.

"So," Hermione continued in an almost gossipy, Parvati like, fashion, "the Hermione in your world got the chaser did she?"

"Seeker!" he corrected cringing, " and yeah she did," he huffed and slumped into a seat, "I was going to ask, honest, but the stupid git got there first. She was down in the library all the time and me and Harry weren't exactly best friends for part of the year- I think that's when Krum spotted her."

"What happened between you and Harry?" Hermione asked in a consolatory manner, sitting down beside him.

"It was my fault, I was jealous that Harry was champion and star yet again. I know I wasn't right but I couldn't help it."

"Harry was the Hogwarts champion in your world?" she asked, her features confused.

"One of the champions anyway. Cedric was really chosen," Hermione nodded in accordance as he continued, "but Vol… Vol…, you-know-who, wanted Harry so he got one of his followers to impersonate Mad-Eye Moody, turned the cup into a port key and used it to get Harry to him. That's when Voldemort came back in my world- end of fourth year."

The room had darkened with depression and though the story came as a shock to Hermione she quickly assimilated the information and turned to her own tale to lighten the mood.

"Well here it was all very different." her cheerful voice caused Ron to straighten his shoulders from their downward slump, "Voldemort was already back to human form the start of that year so we had it easy just watching the tournament. Yes he tried to use dreams to get Harry to go for the prophecy but they stopped suddenly about halfway through the year. Dumbledore told us about it anyway after Voldemort changed tactics. So for us the games were a nice, if dangerous, way to pass the time until exams- oh, I bet your Harry just loved getting out of those."

Ron nodded with a smile. He was tempted to ask what the 'changed tactics' where but he knew that time was running out and right now he needed the light tale of the Yule Ball to prepare him for the rest of the day, especially if he were to run into Umbridge again.

"So the Yule Ball?" he gently reminded,

"Oh yes, better get to the point hadn't I," Hermione's eyes glazed slightly and a wide smile spread across her face as she remembered happy memories from _that_ Christmas. "I was so mad at him, he and Harry were sitting there dejected because they had no dates. I was _right_ there in front of them as they complained about all the good girls being taken - and by good they of course meant pretty. Well when he finally realised that I was a girl and just expected me to go… oh I was so angry! I didn't have a date and to be labelled as one of _those_ girls, the ones you feel pity for because their nose isn't dead centre, was just horrible. And he'd asked a Veela first! A Veela I tell you! I was right there!"

Ron cringed remembering the same conversations quite clearly in his mind, though he felt the need to defend his otherworld counterpart, "You can't really blame him for first going to a Veela though can you? I mean they're not quite human, it's not fair."

Hermione looked at him as if realising that he was there for the first time during her replaying memory. Her frowning face soon turned into a wide smile. "That happened didn't it?" she realised, "That whole argument after you and Harry had been turned down, that happened in your world."

Ron grudgingly nodded, "Yeah but it didn't help when she said that she was going with someone else."

"Ah, well luckily I didn't have that excuse."

"So what happened?" Ron asked on the edge of the seat now fully involved in the story, "How did you go from at each others throats to waltzing round a dance floor?

She eagerly carried on, "I couldn't sleep that night, you see I'd gone off in such a huff claiming that I had some imaginary homework to do that I just lay tossing and turning in bed for hours. Finally I gave up and went back down to the common room and there he was, said he couldn't sleep either. At first I was still angry, not only had Ron not asked me to the Ball but also he'd made me lose valuable sleep- what if I had had a test tomorrow!?"

"The world would have ended I'm sure."

Hermione ignored his sarcastic humour with a smile. "_Anyway _I made my feelings- the less than happy ones I should say- quite clear to him and he just laughed. Oh, I could have hit him! But then he gave me the sweetest apology ever and, stuttering over the words, asked me to the Ball. I almost made a stupid mistake- I almost said no- I mean it was so last minute, I had the right to be indignant enough to say no. But he gave me _that _look, the lopsided grin and doleful eyes and that was it, I said yes." Hermione looked straight into Ron's wonder filled eyes as he imagined what could have been. "I'm not sure if I should've told about that look- it's way too powerful" she laughed, however the good memories soon connected to the bad and her eyes glistened with tears. She turned her head downwards to conceal them, but too late as Ron had seen. "God I loved him," she told the table, "I love him. I'll love him forever."

Ron didn't know what to say, how to react. Dealing with a crying girl was bad enough, but a crying Hermione? A Hermione crying because he was dead? Well almost him. Close enough.

Luckily he was saved by the bell and Hermione jumped in surprise. Blinking back her tears she dragged him to his feet, "Come on we need to get down there."

Soon the silencing charm was broken and they were walking hurriedly down the corridor to the Great Hall. After a few moments of heavy silence Hermione spoke, "Look Ro_b_ I'm sorry about how I've been around you. It was just easier to pretend that you were Robert Millings than deal with Lazarus. It didn't work though, you still look like him. Oh, I know the hair is different and that does help but in truth… in truth this is killing me."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

"I'm still sorry."

"Just be careful around Harry- I know he seems normal at the moment but eventually it's going to hit him that you aren't his dead best friend, not only that but your going to leave as well. Honestly I don't know if we'll be able to survive you leaving us again."

"The difference is that this time I'll say goodbye."

"You better."

The two smiled at each other and Ron unconsciously felt his pocket for the photo- maybe there were some things he could learn in this world to make things better in his own.

* * *

AN: This would have been up on time if it weren't for server so-and-so and ffhaving a stupid bug- thank you for waiting.

By the way 4 more reviews and I beat my personal best (hint hint)

A final thankyou to all of my reviewers, nattieb my beta and, to answer pureangel's question, I have thought about the Marauder's Map and it won't cause a problem with the plot- my beta and I have hopefully got backups for every problem just waiting to crop up but if you find a plot hole don't hesitate to quetion it.

Till next friday.


	8. Changed Tactics

Disclaimer: You get the idea

Changed Tactics 

On entering the Great Hall Ron felt a twinge in his stomach, something akin to the carsickness he'd vaguely experienced in the Ford Anglia in second year; everything was slightly skewed. At all of the tables sat students happily devouring lunch and yet there were seats empty that should have been filled: Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Creevy brothers, all missing. And then there were those that shouldn't have been there, faces he didn't recognise including, of course, one person who defiantly oughtn't have been eating quite happily on the Hufflepuff table- Cedric Diggory.

It was impossible to merge the image of the surprised corpse carried out of the maze on that disastrous night with the happy, smiling lad eating cheese sandwiches surrounded by friends. The surprise on Ron's face showed and Hermione quickly pushed him down onto the bench between Harry and herself.

"What's he doing here?" he questioned Hermione pointing towards Cedric.

"He's come in for a couple of days to give a talk on what to do after Hogwarts."

"That's not what I meant."

"Look Rob," she whispered, "I know that things are different here but do try not to let every little thing phase you."

"Well I'm sorry but seeing the dead come back to life is a bit of a surprise," he hissed back.

"Well now you know how we feel."

"Hush you two you're drawing attention to yourselves," Harry warned.

Ron obliged by stuffing his face with a Cornish pasty, ignoring Hermione's withering look.

"Hi, Rob Millings is it?"asked a familiar, male, Irish voice across the table as he too helped himself to lunch.

"Yeah, you are?" Ron asked remembering just in time to feign ignorance.

"Seamus, Seamus Finnigan. So where are you from?"

"Uh," Ron's mind quickly snatched a memory, "Staffordshire. A school in one of the villages down there."

Hermione quickly realised that Ron was stumbling and hurried to help him, "Parents moved him up here when it got a little more dangerous, that's right isn't it Rob."

"Yeah that's it." He sent a smile of thanks to her,

Seamus changed the subject obviously happy with the information, "So have you worked out where to go then?"

"Hermione and Harry have been showing me around."

"Well you're lucky there mate they haven't really talked to anyone since…"

"I know about Ron."

The other boy looked relieved that he didn't have to explain it and tried to cover it up with another question, "So what have you got next?"

"Oh, er," Ron fingered through his bag until he found his timetable, "potions."

Seamus laughed at the disgust in his voice, "You know about Snape then."

"Definitely." His firmness surprised his new/old friend, he grasped for an excuse for knowing something he shouldn't have, "Ran into him earlier."

Seamus nodded in understanding and technically it wasn't a lie- just not the whole truth.

They carried on talking through lunch, Ron trying to keep the amount of half-truths he was telling to a minimum. As the conversation drifted along he casually looked around the hall trying to spot any other changes when his eyes were drawn to the head table.

This world had definitely changed the teacher rostra: Lupin sat there! As did Umbridge, and a Snape who didn't glare at the Griffindor table quite so often as usual. McGonagall was missing along with Flitwick and there was a new teacher that Ron didn't recognise sitting in Dumbledore's seat, there was no sign of the headmaster.

He looked again at the seat snatcher to see a seemingly ordinary woman, disarmingly pretty without attracting too much attention with long, brown, straight hair and wearing a conservative black robe. Everything seemed perfectly normal and safe about her until he glanced into her eyes, just as her's caught his.

They were cold, ice cold, with an edge of a black outline that screamed intolerance. Their hardness was unreadable and it felt as if she could see right through him. Unable to break away he sighed with relief as she looked away and continued to cast her gaze along the row. It was then he realised that by her hands, resting on the table, was a long sheet of parchment with a quill resting on top of it. The quill moved without the aid of her hand seemingly in a tick like fashion as her stare shifted from one person to the next, so this was the register.

Surreptitiously Ron shifted up the bench towards Hermione. "Who's that?" he asked in a quiet whisper.

She followed his gaze, "Hogwarts High Inquisitor- Malevolous Smith."

"Who?"

"Fudge brought her in some time ago, at first she was called a 'Ministry Education liaison officer' but over time her power has grown. She now has as much, if not more, control in this school than Dumbledore."

"How did that happen!?" he exclaimed.

"Shush!" she hissed, "Now is not the time for a history lesson."

"Hermione" he whined.

"Fine, but do try not to make it look conspiratorial."

"What?"

"Stop looking around every two seconds you're attracting attention, just act as if this is a normal conversation. Pretend that we're talking about quidditch."

"You, talk about quidditch," he snickered.

"Alright if you're not going to be serious." She turned away from him and reached for some pumpkin juice.

"I'm sorry okay," Ron pulled at her and force her to face him, "Look I'm being serious so what happened."

Checking that Seamus was quite happily talking to Dean Hermione looked over to Harry for some help in explaining, Harry however was staring morosely into his food, so she began her explanation.

"I don't know who brought Voldemort back in your world but here it began with Black, or so we thought." she added quickly when Ron looked as if he was about to interrupt, "Apparently they used an ordinary wizard for the blood in the sacrifice after Voldemort was persuaded that going after Harry would be more trouble than it was worth. Lucius Malfoy is the monsters new right-hand man and it turns out that he has quite a flattering tongue. Instead of the all out fighting the order half- expected, night time raids etcetera, it hasn't turned out that way." Seeing Ron's bewildered face she continued, "I've already told you that Voldemort didn't really use the link he shares with Harry in the fourth year, he's changed tactics."

"Does he know all of the prophecy then?" he question, trying to understand the overload of information.

"We don't know. His actions suggest he does but we have no idea how he could have found out- the only people who know are Dumbledore and us. Instead of attacking Harry out right Voldemort has been getting right into the ministry, slithering like a snake into all areas of power until he now has followers in every office. Smith is the last stage of getting Hogwarts; he's going to enter this school through the main entrance knowing that there will be no resistance."

The bell for next lesson rang and Hermione shook Ron out of his stupor. "I know that this is a lot to take in," she whispered comfortingly in his ear, "but don't worry. I'm sure that you'll be long gone before that _thing _gets in here."

"Maybe I wont be the only one to leave," he whispered under his breath but Hermione didn't here as the trio headed towards the dungeons.

* * *

AN: I've beaten my PB on reviews so thank you and to nattieb for betering so quickly

Expect some length in the next chapter.


	9. Of Vampire Bats

Of Vampire Bats…

What Ron really wanted to do right down was lie down and sleep for a very, _very_ long time. Umbridge, his death, Sirius' death, that Smith woman, You-Know-Who about to walk through the front door and a long-term relationship with Hermione found out all in one day! It was too much to take in at once but any chance of a reprieve from this whirlwind of discovery was impossible when faced with the horrible nightmare of Snape's potions class.

The slimy head of Slytherin showed no immediate difference, though the low amount of death stares sent by Harry was a little disconcerting. Like usual, a set of awkward potion instructions appeared in spidery writing on the board with a wave of Snape's wand, he then proceeded to give curt examples of what he would do to anyone who made a mistake.

"What are you smiling for?" Harry asked, letting go of any resentment remaining from the earlier argument to put up a united front against the potions professor.

"I just realised that none of the work I do here will affect my grades back home!" Ron answered.

"Lucky sod."

"I know."

Hearing their conversation Hermione joined in all to happy to wipe the smirk off Ron's face. "You _do_ realise that you would have been learning almost exactly the same thing back there don't you? And that if Snape knows who you are he'll just send a parchment of your marks back through with you anyway?" she quipped.

Ron's face became a mask of horror, "Dumbledore wouldn't tell him would he?"

She smiled, "I don't know, but if Snape doesn't send your grades for this month then I certainly will."

"You wouldn't!"

"Try me."

"Miss Granger, would you care to inform the class of what it is you have to discuss that is so important that you don't have to listen to me?" said Snape in deadly calm voice, and yet without the slight inflection of pure disgust that Ron had become accustomed to back home.

Hermione gulped and quickly turned to the front of the room, "No, sir. Sorry sir, it won't happen again."

"Just to see that it doesn't ten points from Griffindor."

A snigger swept around the half-full room as, just like his own world, it was mainly the Slytherins that had passed potions with a high enough grade to enter the class; they were in company of a slight smattering of Ravenclaws (though many had passed the exam well in the brainy house, few had decided to torture themselves with yet another two years of the sardonic, sullen teacher). Ron had often wondered why he voluntarily did this to himself every week until he remembered that elusive Auror training.

Silently fantasising about a world where Snape actually washed his horribly greasy hair Ron sniggered as he crushed a bowl of doxy droppings. His wishful thinking was disturbed however by a small explosion to the left hand side of the room.

Snape cursed under his breath and strode towards the unfortunate student, who was unfamiliar to Ron. "Miss Silverstone if you can not understand the rudimentary knowledge that lobalug venom and ashwinder skin explode when not stirred in an anticlockwise direction then maybe it would be best if you returned to Honoria Nutcombe School for Witches."

The teenage girl cringed in response to the professor's sarcastic tone and hurriedly mumbled her apologies. Beside him Ron felt Hermione shift on her chair in empathy with the poor student but their attention was drawn away as an annoying Slytherin made his presence known.

"Hello mudblood, Potter, new boy, enjoying the show?" The temporary distraction of Snape had allowed Malfoy the opportunity to introduce himself to the 'new' student.

Ron clenched his fists under the table and felt Harry's and Hermione's hands gently holding them down out of the ferret's sight.

"So Rob is it?"

"Yeah," Ron murmured grudgingly.

"Well I expect you know my name. Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron bit down a snide remark as Hermione's grip tightened in warning.

"Of course, it's to be expected," he continued, "the Malfoy name can be a little overwhelming."

The self-righteous git actually thought that Ron was in awe of him, that the inability to speak came from admiration and not the fact that Ron was just one more word away from punching his lights out.

And he didn't seem to know quite when to quit, "You know it's odd that these two have taken you under their wing, maybe the mudblood has finally decided to move on from the Weasel."

Ron's attack was beaten by the flying leap Hermione took across the table. It was only due to Harry's quick reactions that they didn't lose a few thousand points for Griffindor as Snape chose that moment to return to teaching. Instead she was grabbed around the waist and hauled into her seat before suspicion could be aroused.

"Sit down," Harry hissed into her ear, firmly holding her shoulders. Hermione calmed slightly at his touch and Draco moved back to his own table.

"The smug arse, damn him and damn his father," she cursed under her breath

"Shh, you won't change anything." Harry whispered soothingly.

"No but it would make me feel better to repeat that third-year punch," she smiled weakly.

"I think we'd all love to see that again but I don't want you to disappear on me. Okay?"

The words seemed to work and Harry was soon back in his seat.

"It's a shame he turned out that way really," Harry whispered conversationally to Ron, returning to his bubbling potion.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"Well Dumbledore has this strange notion that Malfoy may have actually joined our side if his father hadn't become one of Voldemort's key deatheaters."

"Where on earth did he get that idea?!"

"I don't really know, but _it is_ Dumbledore we're talking about, sometimes I just think that he knows everything."

"You're not so sure of that in my world."

Surprise showed in Harry's face, "Really?"

"It does make sense." Hermione joined in, "Remember how distrustful you were of him when you first found out about the prophesy. It seems that if Rob's right then in his world that Harry would have been lied to for longer."

"While we're on the subject of change, how come there are new students? What happened to the others?" Ron asked his two friends. Conversation was now easier as all of the cauldrons were letting off bangs and whistles.

"That's the reason you've got to be careful around here." Hermione explained, "When Voldemort got his followers into the top levels of the ministry there were some witches and wizards that tried to inform the public. Needless to say they quickly disappeared. Anyone who speaks out against what's happening find that their families leave home suddenly one night never to be seen again."

Harry joined in, "Hogwarts is still reasonably safe, students of 'rebellious' families only vanish into thin air when they go home at the holidays," his voice was sombre, "The first student to not come back was Susan Bones and then the Creevy brothers didn't return."

"But the Creevys come from a muggle family." Ron argued.

"That's when we realised that Voldemort wasn't going to attack the school outright," Hermione continued, "if he can't get rid of mixed blood during term time then he's just going to pick them off one by one. Even though it's slower it has a very demoralising effect. Be muggle born and wait for the end or object to it and watch as that waiting time evaporates in seconds. Families whose children never made it into Hogwarts or preferred other schools now leap at the chance to be under the Headmaster's diminishing protection."

Harry took up the explanation again, "Anyone who steps out of line, even the pure blooded, are at risk. What do you think would happen to Hermione if she took one step out of line? The only reason her and her family haven't had a visit from the Wizarding Relations Protection Service- " at Ron's befuddled look, he added a quick explanation, "their the ones in charge of 'keeping the peace', is because of image."

"Image?" Ron questioned, now thoroughly confused.

"It's all about the look of the thing," Hermione took over, "there can be no real denouncing of the government because there is no real proof that the WRPS is anything more than a normal policing body, people disappear at the dead of night, no witnesses, no bodies."

"And they won't take Hermione until they have an excuse because she's too visible," Harry interrupted, "she's smart, vocal and well known," she blushed slightly at his words, "If her family aren't around one day it won't be as easy to brush under the carpet."

"They've done the same thing with Lupin-"

Ron interrupted her, "Yeah, I was going to ask how come he's still teaching. In my world he resigned in his first year because he got found out during the whole Sirius thing."

"Well that didn't happen here did it," Harry started, his voice had a slight edge again that always appeared when his Godfather's name was mentioned. He was about to continue when Malevolous Smith appeared in the doorway.

"Professor Snape," she squawked, her voice sounded terse and strained by self-control. The woman was a picture of forced calm, the façade of ease before the storm. "A word please. Now."

Snape nodded his acquiesce and gestured towards his office before speaking to the class in his usual tone, "Bottle your potions, label them and leave them on my desk before leaving. You should have finished five minutes ago. Class dismissed."

As the teachers headed towards the office the students scrambled to clear away. Smith's smile became more and more forced as she passed the cauldrons, her eyes narrowing with every step.

Ron took the vials of potion to Snape's desk whilst his friends cleaned up. The door to the office had been left ajar and he took his time during the labelling to listen in.

"It has come to my attention," came the voice of the High Inquisitor, "that you are still refusing to follow Ministry guidelines in your lessons. This will not be tolerated for much longer. Next lesson you _will_ teach this class the Flame Immobilising potion and get them to right a five foot essay on its history and uses, do I make my-"

"Rob! Rob!"

Ron turned his head to Harry who was calling him.

"Come on mate, Defence next."

"Right, coming," Ron placed the marked bottles on the desk and followed Hermione out of the classroom, silently wishing that he could have heard Snape's response.

"Hey Hermione," he asked once in the corridor, "what is the Flame Immobilising potion?"

"Come on Ron you know this, it was summer homework after second year," at his blank look she continued, "you know, _Witch Burning in the Fourteenth Century Was Completely Pointless- discuss_."

"Nope sorry Hermione I'm normal, I can't remember essay titles from four and a half years ago."

Hermione ignored Harry's snicker and gave Ron 'The Look', "Well you should. It's a mixture that makes fire ineffective, like a pre-prepared Flame-Freezing Charm."

"Why would Smith be so keen on us learning about stopping fires?" Ron asked thinking back to the professor's intense tone.

"No idea," Hermione answered, "Maybe it's the witch burning she's interested in."

Shrugging the threesome made there way to Defence against the Dark Arts.

* * *

AN: Sorry about the wait but I havn't been home much over the weekend and had no accass to my computer on Friday, please forgive me.


	10. And Werewoves

…And Werewolves

Was he ever going to get a reprieve? Were the explanations ever to stop? When was this damn world going to stop spinning? Of course if Ron were to voice the swirling mess that was his mind at the moment to his friends they would probably just shut him up ready for the next lesson- well Hermione would anyway. The potions lesson had helped calm him down and slow the amount of information but in the short walk to defence against the dark arts everything had seemed to pile on again as he passed unrecognisable students. Smith's intentions were yet another layer to the enigma of the silent mechanics of this world.

Lupin's classroom looked just as it did in third year except that it had a more homely, settled feeling. Weird and wonderful creatures surrounded the room. Aquariums darkened by weeds and empty cages precariously resting on top of each other in clumsy piles also added to the cluttering, casual atmosphere. For the first time that day Harry and Hermione rushed to the front tables, slowly followed by Ron who was taking a moment to enjoy a feeling of nostalgia.

Lupin had easily been the best defence teacher Hogwarts had ever seen during Ron's time there and to experience him again in a school setting was defiantly a plus point for this world. Teaching agreed with the man as the professor had gained a healthy amount of weight, fitting snugly into his worn, but no longer patched robes. Lupin's face held more colour and his voice sounded fuller as he took the register, leaning informally on his desk.

At Ron's added name he paused and sent a slight wink in his direction.

"He knows," Hermione muttered into Ron's ear, "Dumbledore must have told him about you. Usually he just passes over the new students, he doesn't treat anybody differently."

The class soon began in earnest with students battling with awkward defensive spells. They were learning a complicated shield charm that Ron soon completed with ease.

"How did you manage that?" asked Harry in awe as he threw a jelly-legs jinx at Ron jumping back when it ricocheted in his direction.

"I'm just naturally talented," Ron sighed back in feigned smugness trying his hardest not to laugh at Hermione's thin lips that were pursed with annoyance.

"No really, how did you manage it so quickly?" Harry questioned again also fighting a wide grin at Hermione's disgruntled look.

"Okay I suppose I may have had a little more practise being as I learnt this about a month ago and did something similar in DA last year," Ron confessed.

"DA?" Hermione questioned.

"Long story, but basically it was just a club we set up because the Umbridge was so awful at teaching defence."

"Who taught you then?" Harry asked after another close attempt at the charm.

"You did. You weren't that bad to be honest."

"There you go Harry," Hermione suggested, "You could always teach if you've had enough of real duelling by the end of your school life."

She meant it lightly of course but the reference to the end brought the prophesy to the forefront of the trio's minds. However they were soon disturbed from their shared reverie by Lupin's appearance.

"Well done Rob," he said admiring Ron's charm and giving him a conspiratorial knowing smile proving that he did indeed know Ron's true identity.

Ron flushed slightly and glanced away from the eyes now critiquing his work. "Thanks," he muttered. When he looked up again and met the professor's eyes he noticed what he'd missed earlier- deep worry lines.

Ron recognised the etched creases around Lupin's eyes from the ones he'd seen at their infant stages on the face of the teacher's twin in his world. At home they'd always been there of course, to some extent, but it hadn't been until Sirius' death last year that the stress and worry of a werewolf's life had really begun to show. In his world Lupin was still grieving whilst here he'd had to cope with the loss of his surviving best friend for years. The worst of it though, to Ron who felt a squirming in his stomach at the thought, was that it was all based on a lie.

After giving Harry and Hermione a bit of advice they both easily completed the charms and Lupin moved on to the next group. His friends were all smiles until Ron remembered their words before they had been interrupted in potions.

"What did you two mean about Lupin and image earlier?" Ron questioned.

Again the noise of the room made discussion possible and Hermione quickly spoke after making sure that Lupin was far enough away not to hear.

"I don't want him to know we're talking about him," she explained after his quizzical look and then settled into her typical answering tone. "You know how I can't disappear for certain reasons, "Ron nodded, "Well the same sort if thing goes for Lupin. Everyone knows that he's a werewolf, it was deliberately slipped to the Prophet."

"Why's he still here then?" questioned Ron.

"Because they released it as a sob story that's why, human interest and all that gunk. To the outside world the government is becoming more open-minded and is extending a hand to misrepresented groups but behind the scenes the truth is very different. Werewolves, centaurs, merpeople, even house elves, are having their rights slowly torn away whilst the rest of the world doesn't realise what's happening right under its nose."

"Lupin is disgusted by it and the way they're exploiting his position," Harry supplied, "He'd quit if it weren't for the fact he'd be destitute in a matter of weeks."

"And again no one does anything?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Rob you know what a lot of wizards are like." Hermione rationalised, "You've seen how Hagrid has been treated- you found out about that in one of Rita Skeeter's articles as well didn't you," Ron nodded ",And you _know _about pure blood prejudice. To be honest the average magic user can't be bothered until it's sitting on their doorstep and by then it's too late to do anything anyway."

The three of them silently returned to work feeling even more pessimistic. To Harry and Hermione it was an enlightening, if horrific, experience to inform Ron of what was happening all in one go rather than experiencing it slowly creep into their lives. For the first time they had really had to think about what was happening and suddenly secret conversations in disused corridors seemed inconsequential.

Class continued without interruption as the professor taught some more defensive spells, many of which Ron already knew. This eased the pressure and he could think in peace without having to really concentrate- a novelty in itself that he would have rather savoured. He thought back to the night the split happened between the worlds, the night where everything changed because a tree did not know the script. He knew that he was missing something important. Something else needed to be said and worked out. What was it!?

"Ron-b!" Harry yelled as his friend lost control of a powerful charm during his frustrating contemplation.

"Sorry," Ron muttered. He looked again to the front of the room at Professor Lupin. Lupin… Reamus Lupin… Moony! Of course, that was the answer! What else had happened on that fateful night, why hadn't the marauder's map shown everything? Lupin had known part of the truth, so why had he not defended his best friend back then?

For a moment Pettigrew's face flashed in Ron's mind but the epiphany was lost with the ring of the bell. He tried to hang back to speak to the teacher but the class rushed out with Lupin close behind leaving Ron without the chance to talk to him. Heaving his bag over his left shoulder and cursing under his breath Ron grudgingly followed behind Harry and Hermione as they left the room. Thank Godric the first day was over.

* * *

AN: I know this should have been out last friday but things never quite work out do they. Anyway it works in your favour as I'm posting two chapters this week. 

As always a thankyou to my beta and all of you lovely people who review.

To Grim Sister- The real influence for this story was the rise of Nazism in Germany though I did read 1984 just a few weeks ago so some of that may seep through.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!


	11. Meanwhile in the Other World

Meanwhile Back in the Other World…

Harry daringly entered the lair of the beast warily passing piles of books and overflows of paper. In the middle of the mausoleum of deforested trees sat a weary girl. Her hair made frizzier because of extensive pulling by ink stained fingers.

"Hermione, don't you think it's time you took a break?" Harry asked carefully sitting down at the table at which she was working. The furniture looked ready to collapse under the strain of such extensive reading.

"You know I can't do that," she sighed pulling forward yet another tome.

"I really think you should get some rest," he urged again.

Hermione growled in frustration at the book in her hands and threw it to the floor. The thump echoed around the empty library and in the distance a clock could be heard chiming eleven o' clock.

"Why isn't it here Harry!?" she cried in desperation, "Why is there nothing about that bloody door?" Hermione wiped at her eyes and Harry turned away to allow his friend time to hide her tears and regain her composure.

"You've been here everyday for the past two and a half weeks, don't you think that it's time to stop," Harry pleaded.

"I'm not going to give up on him."

"I'm not asking you to. But while you're here practically killing yourself Ron could be having the time of his life in a world where the Chudley Cannons are at the top of the league."

That managed to raise a small smile but it was soon lost. Hermione reached unconsciously for a chain around her neck and muttered to him, "What if he's in danger though and we aren't there to help?" She then voiced her greatest fear, "What if he can't get back?"

To be honest every pessimistic thought that had crossed Hermione's sharp mind had also whizzed through Harry's but he couldn't allow himself to really worry about Ron while his other best friend needed him. In fact, without realising it, he had been pulled out of his slump by Ron's disappearance. Hermione could not cope with this on her own even if she liked to pretend to.

"And that isn't the most horrible part."

Harry looked at her, confused by her whispered confession, "What do you mean?"

Hermione turned away from him in her seat and placed her head in her left hand while still fiddling with the chain in the other. "I'm not sure if… I don't know if I would be this worried… if I would feel this way if… if it was _you_ that had gone through that doorway," she shamefully admitted.

Quickly she turned back to him, "Oh, Harry I'm so sorry, I must sound like such a horrid person!"

"Don't be silly," he said but Harry couldn't help but feel that he was lying.

"No it's true, I really don't deserve to be called your friend. At first when I threw myself into this extra work I thought it was _just_ because Ron was my best friend. When it got worse and I lost myself in the research I persuaded myself I was more worried than usual because he had never been in a situation like this before by himself but as time went on and I filled up the rest of my time with trying to find this damned doorway-"

"At the expense of essential things I should add," Harry interrupted.

"Not that essential."

"Hermione, you've been cutting down on your meals, loosing sleep, even your homework has suffered for goodness sake!"

"Well that's neither here nor there because what I realised was that though it _is_ true that I worry about Ron for those reasons it isn't… just those reasons"

Harry quickly forgot his offended feelings as he realised what she was trying to say.

"Harry I feel so awful because… because I don't know how I'll cope if he doesn't come back."

"Oh and you would be able to cope without me though would you?" he teased with a smile on his face.

"Oh, I didn't mean that!" she cried until she saw his laughing eyes, then she hit him lightly round the back of the head, "Don't tease me at a time like this."

"I just find it hilarious that it takes _yet another _near death experience for you to admit that you fancy Ron and you haven't even said it out loud yet! Why haven't you two worked it out yet? Why haven't you got it through your thick skulls that neither of you have got time to waste by beating around the bush?"

"What do you mean- 'neither of you'?"

Harry felt like banging his head on the table as he explained in exasperation, "Ron. Fancies. You. The only people dumb enough to not be able to see it are the two of you and it is driving the rest of us mad!"

Hermione's face took on a picture of self-denial, "I don't believe you."

"Godric help us," Harry pleaded to the ceiling before facing her head on and patiently speaking, "Hermione what did I get you the Christmas before last?"

"A book, _New Theory of Numerology, _but I don't see what that has to do with anyth-"

Harry interrupted regardless, "What did Ron get you?"

"Perfume," she surrendered.

"And what did I get you this year?"

"_A Thousand Witches and the Roads They Fly _by Zelda McIntosh." She could see where he was going this but had no choice other than to follow.

"How about Ron?"

Hermione glanced down at the chain around her neck and at her hand that had clasped instinctively onto the simple looped pendant. "This necklace," she whispered.

"Are you noticing a pattern here?"

"I might be." She smiled wryly, "He really does feel the same way?"

"Yes," Harry cried in exasperation, "Yes he does. Now hand me that book."

Hermione glanced at him in surprise. "Pardon?"

"The book please. I'm sorry I should have been more help earlier but I was so wrapped up in my own problems. I'm not going to have a repeat of the Buckbeak trial research of third year so I'm going to be a real help. Now hand me the book, we'll look for another hour and then we're going to play dodge Filch and his evil cat and go to bed, okay?"

Taken back by this sudden change in attitude Hermione dumbly handed the large ledger next to her into his hands and turned back to her own fruitless research.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Don't, I should have been here earlier."

She spoke again into the book, "It's been quieter this year maybe V-Voldemort has decided to leave you alone."

"Yeah maybe," Harry spoke but did not elaborate as the now familiar guilty feeling twinged in his stomach. Yes it had been quiet so far but those in the know knew that leaving Harry to grow old in peace was the last thing on the Dark Lord's mind.

* * *

AN: So here is todays second chapter. It's really a break for the next part of the story. We are now about half way through.

AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!!


	12. Missed Chances

AN: Now betaread thankyou nattieb. There isn't really much changed but their are some new aurthor notes at the bottom (grim sister should really take a look).

Missed chances

"Very good class. Now pack away and remember that two foot essay is to be in next Tuesday," Lupin called to the class as he packed away his own things.

"Sir. Sir! Professor Lupin!" Ron shouted after him as he hastily existed the room.

Ron growled under his breath and followed Harry and Hermione to lunch in the great hall. "Why does he keep doing that?" he asked.

"Who?" Harry asked whilst heaping potatoes onto his plate. He was doing his best to ignore the hawk-like eyes of the witch again sitting in Dumbledore's seat at the head table as the familiar quill noted their presence.

"Lupin. Every time I go to talk to him he runs away," Ron explained.

"Educational Decree 14-" the human encyclopaedia began.

"No information is to be related to students that is not directly associated to the subject blah blah blah," Ron interrupted, "I _know_ that Hermione. Believe me, the knowledge that you have shared with me over the last two and a half weeks ofwhat I can and can't do has been awe-inspiring.But if you don't mind please shut up!"

Hermione sulkily returned to her food and Harry shot Ron an accusatory glance.

"That wasn't needed," Harry warned.

Ron wearily leant his elbows on the table and propped his head in his hands, "I know. I'm sorry." He took a few calming breaths and ran his fingers through his alien black hair. "It's just so frustrating! I'm missing something, something important. I know I am!"

"A little quieter," Harry shushed.

"Of course. We wouldn't want to say anything would we. Wouldn't want to actually _do_ anything to change things. No that would be _far_ too difficult wouldn't it?"

Harry glanced around worriedly and hauled Ron out of the hall, closely followed by Hermione. The corridor was still thronging with students making their way to dinner providing cover for the three with rebellious tendencies to disappear from view. Behind a non-descript tapestry lay a small alcove with just enough room for the three teenagers to talk quietly without being spied upon.

"Right that's it," Harry snarled into Ron's face, "You have done nothing but become more and more dangerous to us over these past weeks. We've done our best to keep your presence quiet and in return you argue with us at every step! I've had enough!"

"You don't understand," hissed Ron in defence, "I'm missing something! Everything around here is getting worse: we haven't seen Dumbledore in days, Professor Sinistra got replaced yesterday and the number of DADA classes has been halved. I _need_ to talk to Lupin and it just isn't happening. It's just so…so frustrating!"

The three of them took a momentary break to calm down in the stifling space.

"You're right about Lupin," Hermione broke the silence, "I managed to grab him at the end of dinner yesterday. Usually he'll give me a minute and we'll pretend I had a problem on a recent test. But this time as soon as I brought up your name he couldn't leave fast enough and he hasn't looked me in the eye since."

"Why though?" questioned Harry, "It makes no sense."

"Have you managed to speak to him at all?" Hermione asked Ron.

"Yeah. Once. On my second day here when we had Defence first thing, I got a few words in while everyone was busy with those shield charms again. He was happy to chat, at first, but as soon as I mentioned Padfoot that was it and he was off like a shot, couldn't get away fast enough."

"I wonder why that was," Harry muttered dryly.

"Can you two just agree to disagree on the Sirius issue please," Hermione rebuked, "I am fed up with the dark looks you cast each other when his name is bought up. Stop it now."

"So it looks like the problem is that he doesn't want to deal with what happened in third year," she continued ignoring their sheepish glances.

"Yes, helpful that considering it's the thing I really need to talk about," Ron mocked. "Hermione it should be you here, I mean in my position, you're the smart one. You'd be able to figure this all out easily. There has to be a reason for V-Voldemort to change tactics like he did and I'm certain that it has something to do with that night."

"Maybe there's nothing to figure out. Well, anyway you're not about to have an epiphany now. Lets actually eat something," Harry suggested, when neither moved he prodded again,"C'mon Ron you especially can't think on an empty stomach."

They shared a tight smile and furtively scrambled from behind the hanging carpet. The corridor had emptied and soon the three friends reached the door to the Great Hall for the second time. Harry was about to enter when a familiar voice spoke quietly behind them.

"Robert Millings, the Headmaster would like to speak to you."

They turned to see the teacher that they had just been talking about standing in front of them in all his threadbare glory.

"Can Harry and Hermione come too?" Ron asked. He was torn between a feeling of relief that the Dumbledore hadn't completely left them and the worry of why the Headmaster would want to see him.

Lupin nodded and beckoned for them to follow. During the short walk to Dumbledore's office Ron tried to indirectly broach the subject of Sirius again, "Sir, do you still have the map if you didn't give it back to Harry at the end of third year?"

Lupin just carried on walking but Ron was not to be daunted, "Sir?"

"No. I no longer have the map," he said, brusquely pausing in front of the familiar gargoyle and continuing to speak before Ron could ask anymore questions, "Here we are, now don't keep the Headmaster waiting. Liquorish."

The revolving staircase appeared and the trio quickly mounted it, all were nervous and curious about why Ron had been called when there was still a week and a half till his return date. As Lupin retreated back down the corridor Ron cast him one last look over his shoulder and pushed away the uncomfortable feeling slithering around his bowels.

"Ah, hello Mr Potter, Miss Granger and Mr Millings." At Dumbledore's acknowledgement of Ron his voice altered slightly with an inflection of regret. "Please take a seat."

Around the well-used desk, covered in odds and ends and papers and ink, sat three empty chairs. They were all of the same comfortable armchair style, though sleeker to fit easily into the space. Ron sat down first on the centre seat and wondered how Dumbledore could have been so sure that Harry and Hermione would have joined him.

The Headmaster leaned over the desk and seemed to be fighting the urge to grasp Ron's folded hands.

"Now I know," Dumbledore began looking directly at Ron, "that this is not your true home but I have seen you adapt well to this unusual situation and I feel that the lines between your previous situation and here are becoming blurred in your mind, especially in regards to your emotions." His words offered no real explanation and were so guarded that the students wondered if their Headmaster was free to talk in his own office. "Robert, tomorrow a story will appear in the Daily Prophet which may affect you even though in truth it bares _no_ real connection to you _here_." Dumbledore paused. "Early this morning there was an accident at the ministry and Mr Weasley was very badly injured."

Hermione gasped in shock whilst Harry clenched his fists under the table, his face resolute. Ron, on the other hand, just stared back at the tired man in front of him.

"I'm sorry to say that Arthur Weasley passed away a few hours ago."

Suddenly the world stopped for Ron, though the counter on the side still turned with the passing seconds. He quickly leapt from his chair, finding its comfortableness inappropriate, and leaned his forehead against the cool wood of the door. The room was becoming oppressive prompting Ron to reach for his tie and loosen it to prevent the feeling of choking. It didn't work and the walls slowly crept in.

"I'm okay, I'm fine," his gasped through the claustrophobia, "I've just got to get out of here for a moment."

Fighting for breath Ron hurried from the room leaving the door open behind him.

"Leave him for a moment," Dumbledore spoke softly to Hermione as she made her way to follow him.

"It wasn't an accident was it?" she asked, tears distorting her eyes.

The Headmaster didn't answer, the hardened worry lines told enough.

* * *

AN: I honestly can't thank you enough for the reviews- they grow more with every chapter and make my day. Thank you. But to particular points made- 

Grim sister- sorry your wrong about Lupin (all will be explained) but on your other prediction... well lets just say wait and see.

emeralds gurl- I really do update every friday or saturday at least unless there is a big problem in which case there **will** be an update later during the week. This fic will not be forgotten and put on hiatus I promise.

suckr4romance81789- how could there be a High Inquisitor without annoying decrees aswell?


	13. Careless Whispers

Careless Whispers

His Father was dead. His Dad was dead. But at the same time he wasn't. Why did this have to be so confusing? The line between this world and his own were so blurry now. To anyone thinking clearly Arthur Weasley was resting at home quite happily, if anxiously, for a letter from Dumbledore assuring him that his son was fine and would return to the right world soon. But to Ron it _was_ his dad that had been murdered, not this other world's counterpart. The news had brought back every unbearable fear he'd experienced at Christmas last year when You-Know-Who's pet snake had attacked.

Ron scowled at the sky that refused to be poetic and reflect his depressed, angry mood. Instead the sun was high and the air was lukewarm as long as the customary icy February breeze didn't blow. He hadn't ventured outside much during this unexpected stay in the other world and for good reason- it was bloody freezing!

The seasons had changed slightly during his stay but not so far as for blessed April showers to arrive and hide his tears. He ducked between the ageing stonework and stared across the lake feeling homesick and alone. You never appreciate something until it's gone- an old saying that epitomised everything about this world. Freedoms were being eroded here: the right to speak, the right to choose, the right to live.

The sound of voices brought him back from the deep well of contemplation- they were students on their way to lessons. He worried for a fleeting moment about being late to his next class until he realised that he had a free period in which he was meant to be doing his potions and charms homework. But what did that matter anyway? Safe lessons taught in a secure school away from the pressing responsibilities of real life, he thought bitterly. Then again that sense of security didn't really exist here anymore, maybe back in his Hogwarts, but certainly not here.

Ron accepted that he wasn't the most observant person in the world and that he couldn't read people's emotions particularly well, nevertheless he would have had to been blind not to see that no one in this school felt safe. Nobody walked alone between classes, no one spoke out, not a single murmur of discontent could be heard except for in the very tightest of circles. There was also a distinct lack of trust and it wasn't the Slytherin Inquisitorial Squad grassing students up here. No. It could be anyone, or everyone, of any house. There was certainly no interschool unity when there lacked even inter_house_ unity. Ron would never have believed it possible had he not seen members of his own house having private conversations with the new teachers and then reading the stories in the _Prophet_ the next day of another "enemy of social justice" being found and removed. It was terrifying. He was even beginning to think that the ministry had deliberately allowed new students into Hogwarts, maybe even instigated it, as another way to break the bonds between friends.

Or perhaps the conspiracy theories were getting to him. He shook his head of the fearful thoughts but they would not clear.

With the image of his father's dead body sprawled in his mind Ron cast his thoughts wider to the rest of his family. To be honest he'd dodged the subject deliberately during his stay. The photo he'd seen on his first day offered reassurance that they were fine but the more he found out about this world the more he didn't want to know. He was terrified of what he would find out. But now he would have to deal with it, to act like the brother he was, and that meant finding Ginny.

Ron hadn't seen his sister during his wait in this world and in all honesty he'd purposely tried not to think about her familiar face. It brought a nauseating feeling of homesickness. During his first week he'd imagined that Harry and Hermione were keeping him out of the way just in case she recognised him. However as time passed, and her non-existence became more noticeable, he'd gotten the distinct feeling that he really didn't want to know where she was and entered, what Hermione would call, the psychologically defined stage of denial.

Realising that it was time he stopped playing "the mooncalf and left the burrow" **(1)** Ron turned towards the Castle doors. He made his way towards the Common room thinking it the most likely place to find his friends, but took a brief detour to the bathroom knowing that it would best to first freshen up first and hide his red eyes from those too nosy for their own good.

He entered the homely room to find it half full of sixth and seventh years sans Harry and Hermione. With a new sense of vigour he ran up the stairs to the boys dormitories and opened the door with a bang.

"Harry where is-" He stopped suddenly when he saw a stuffed bag on his friend's bed together with his firebolt. The room seemed devoid of people till he heard noises from behind the furniture and Harry peered from behind the covers.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked.

"Shut the door," was the reply.

"What?"

Harry strode across the room and shut the door "Never mind," he muttered.

"Harry, What's going on?"

He didn't get an answer and his friend ignored him, searching through the bag and going over a silent checklist in his head. As the worrying silence lengthened Ron strode across the room and grabbed Harry by the shoulders, forcing him to look at him.

"Answer me."

More silence. Ron noticed that Harry's fists were clenched, the knuckles white with force.

"Answer me!"

"No!"

"Tell me or I go to Dumbledore right now."

They stared at each other in challenge like deer rutting. Harry's eyes were hard with rage and Ron's own widened when he also saw the desperation there.

"Okay!" Harry shouted back, finally breaking out of the odd trance he'd fallen into ever since hearing of Mr Weasley's death. "Okay," he breathed.

The two boys sat down opposite each other on two beds.

"Well, what's with the travelling gear?" Ron pressed.

Harry forced his face into grim determination to hide the expression of grief, "You were right earlier. We can't just keep sitting here any more. _I_ can't just sit here anymore."

They lapsed into silence.

"You know it's funny,"

"What is?" Ron asked.

"I haven't actually lost anyone close to me through this second coming, not like this. I mean, Hagrid had to leave yes, but he isn't… he isn't dead." He looked directly at Ron. "Your dad is still at home in your world and I don't know what it's like there but here he was my surrogate father. I'm fed up of people dieing for me."

"So you're running away?"

"Of course not!"

"Then what-" Ron looked again at the stuffed bag to see the invisibility cloak, food, and water, everything needed for a quick getaway. But he also spied the advanced defence books. "You were going to go after him," he gasped in disbelief.

Harry jumped off the bed and started pacing. "Yes. Yes, I was. Don't give me that look! You said yourself that I needed to do something."

Ron jumped up as well, "I said that _we_ needed to do something. You don't go out there alone and get yourself killed!"

"What's going on in here?" came Hermione's voice from the doorway, "You could hear the shouting from the stairway."

"Nothing," Ron spoke staring straight at Harry, "Just that our friend here has gone suicidal on us."

Hermione shut the door behind her and muttered a silencing charm. Nobody noticed the grey rat in the shadows.

"You know that only I can do this. Why are you trying so damn hard to stop me?" Harry pleaded to Ron.

"Will one of you please give me some details," Hermione broke in.

Harry answered, "I've decided to go after Voldemort by myself. Not one more person is going to die for me."

"What Harry doesn't realise is that his plan _wont work. _My Harry has met the nemesis more times than you have. I have more experience."

"Ron, why don't you give Harry some examples?" Hermione knew that vague comments weren't the way to persuade the-boy-who-lived against from his hero complex- even if she had had comparably less familiarity with it.

Ron settled down on his bed to collect his thoughts into a report style. "Well your wands won't work against each other so duelling is out of the question." He elaborated when he saw their confused faces, "We finally got it out of you that yours and V-Voldemort's wands share the same core so they go all weird on each other, it's called Priori Incantem. That's why you _cannot_ go after him by yourself in a duel! Trust me on this."

"So what am I meant to do?"

Ron paused. "I honestly don't know," he admitted depressingly.

The other two friends collapsed onto the same bed on which Ron had slumped and silence enveloped the room.

"There is one thing," Ron spoke slowly.

"What?" asked Hermione.

"I don't know how important this is but here that monster still can't touch Harry physically. Your blood was never used to make him human was it?"

Harry shook his head in response.

"There is also the fact that for every challenge Harry has, Voldemort has the same problem." Hermione added.

"Great," Harry muttered, "Something else I can share with the evilest wizard in the world."

Quiet settled again though this time it had a slightly less depressed shadow.

"Oh, I miss this," Hermione sighed.

"What? Talking about the many ways I could die!"

"Harry don't be silly. I mean here, like this. A moment of pure relaxation. No worries, no danger-"

"No homework."

"Ron!"

He laughed and lifted he head from the prone position he lay in to see Hermione glaring at him whilst stifling a smile.

He turned to look at Harry who was resting his head on the pillows staring at the canopy. "It's been great to have you back Ron," he spoke quietly.

Ron smiled painfully. He wasn't back. This wasn't his home. But how he wanted it to be! Aside from the atrocities going on outside the dormitory door this part of the world was calm. It was a great feeling to be laughing with his friends again during these last few weeks. He wondered fleetingly whether Harry was still being his moody self back home.

But remembering what was really happening outside the safety net of their friendship brought him back down to earth. Allowing his thoughts to wander he had remembered the reason he's been trying to find Harry and Hermione in the first place.

"Erm, I'm not sure if I want to bring this up now but I have to. Where's Ginny? She needs to know about Dad."

Their uncomfortable faces and inability to meet his eyes made him certain that ignorance was indeed bliss- he really didn't want to know the answer.

**

* * *

**

**(1)-** the muggle equivalent would be of an ostrich lifting its head from the sand.

* * *

AN: Thank you again for your reviews and to nattieb as always.

You should all now know the huge, great important thing that Ron has forgotten to tell anyone about, although one of you did get it last chapter.

Bye Bye


	14. An Unwanted Christmas Present

An Unwanted Christmas Present

"Just tell me. How bad can it be?" Ron's question was met with a deafening silence.

Finally Hermione stirred and she and Harry shared an unreadable look. "Harry, why don't you go make sure that no one is trying to get up here. I'll do this."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Go on."

Harry grudgingly crossed the room, though it was with a sigh of relief that he closed the dormitory door behind him.

"Is it really that awful?" Ron asked anxiously.

Hermione turned and faced him on the bed. "Now you must remember that this isn't your real family-"

"But Hermione-"

"No Ron, listen to me. _Your_ Mum and Dad are at the Burrow waiting for their children to come home, your brothers are safe and happy-"

"Well that's debatable."

She ignored him and continued as if he hadn't spoken, "And Ginny is at your Hogwart's now, probably endorsing whatever lie Dumbledore concocted to explain your disappearance."

"So what happened here? What happened to _his _family?"

She paused to gather her thoughts. "Ron's death hit his family hard," her voice threatened to choke but she brought it back under control. If she was going to convince Ron not to take this too hard then she would have to raise her own barriers, "and morale was low anyway. Newly created departments within the ministry had made Mr Weasley's job irrelevant. They shifted him to a kitchen cupboard of an office, removed what little staff he had and lowered his wages with the silent warning that any protest would result him being sacked and blacklisted, in effect he would be made unemployable. That was about a year ago and things have been incredibly tight since even though your- Ron's brothers try their best by sending what they can home to keep their mother well."

"So my brothers are okay then?"

Hermione wanted to remind him that it what he meant to ask was if her Ron's brothers were okay but bit her tongue instead as she didn't relish the idea of answering the question, whatever way it was phrased.

"Hermione are they okay?" he pressed getting increasingly worried by her silence.

"Sort of." She twisted her hands in her lap and stared at the bed coverings.

"Sort of?"

"Physically- yes they're all alive and well…"

"But?"

She gave up the avoidance. "But Bill's had trouble finding a job in England and he so desperately wanted to come home after… well… after he lost his brother."

"And Charlie?" Ron hadn't really thought about the effect the loss of his life on the rest of his family. Oh, after the horrifying boggart moment last year he knew his mother would care but he had never really thought about how his brothers would react. Maybe it was just another way of denying the war was happening and that he really could die- this world had proved that that could happen- or maybe it was yet another sign of his low self-esteem; after all there were several others to take his place- what a stupid thing to assume! Inwardly Ron cursed himself for thinking such a thought. When he worried everyday if Percy was acting of his own free will, if Ginny was staying away from anyone male who wasn't blood related or Harry, if Bill was going to come across a curse that was just too strong then it was very unlikely that they wouldn't think about him as well.

"Charlie is doing the best out of all of them," Hermione's voice brought his concentration back to the moment at hand. "Apart from some extra movement on the black market for dragon parts he's fine."

Ron breathed a sigh of relief.

"The twins on the other hand…"

"What could possibly break the twins!?" Ron asked agape.

"Maybe the death of their brother!" she chastised at his thoughtlessness, "Just because they tease you it doesn't mean that they don't care."

Ron glanced away. "Sorry," he muttered, inwardly cursing his loud mouth.

"That's okay," Hermione softened. "It wasn't just that though. They never made enough money for their dream joke shop so they ended up drifting from job to job. But it's been since this Christmas that I really worried about them."

"Why?"

She held back again.

"Hermione why?"

"There was an attack on the Burrow the day before Christmas Eve."

"An attack?" Ron's voice became hoarse with the force of emotion that had appeared in a flash flood at the unexpected news. With the world ripped from under his feet he replaced the sudden feeling of loss with anger.

Hermione nodded and reached to touch Ron's shoulder in an effort to offer comfort but he shrugged her off. He began to pace the room in agitation and she hurriedly went to colour in the details in a poor attempt to divert the building rage she could feel coming off him in waves, "We think the Death Eaters were rushed though because there was only one person in the house at the time. Or maybe they just wanted to add more terror by taking everyone one by one."

"As much as I'd love to heat your analysis of Death Eater behaviour maybe you could tell me who was home!"

He barely heard Hermione whisper the name. "Ginny. The others were out on errands for Christmas and her job was to make a start on the decorations. The Order hadn't even heard a murmur of what was going to happen," her words fell over each other at the recollection of the scarring memory, hurting even more because of his harsh tone, "and then I came back with the others after getting the final part of her present and…oh god the mark." She fought against her tears and her voice dipped in and out between racked, stifled sobs," I was first back through the fire place… there was this dark stench over the house... it was so horrible… her body… oh god the twitching."

Ron's pacing had paused when he'd had to strain to hear the long awaited answer. And then as Hermione had lost control of her voice he'd longed to offer her some comfort but his legs wouldn't move, paralysed by shock his feet were glued to the ground. At the news of his Father's death his mind had been overflowing with words and messages that his brain didn't have time to comprehend but at the report of his little sister his head had blanked. There was nothing there at all. Breathing was too difficult and he had to force every mouthful of air. Even that was too much to think about as he concentrated on inhaling, exhaling, breathing in, breathing out.

After an immeasurable time that could have been thirty seconds or thirty years filled with the sounds of tears and gasping breaths the world returned to its normal working order and Hermione wiped away the salty water from her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she hiccupped, "so sorry."

"Was she murdered?" Ron recognised his own toneless voice speaking but didn't remember sending the order to his brain for it to do so.

"No she's alive, if you can call it that. She's at St Mungo's in a long-term ward. Ron she's been unconscious ever since it happened, the question has even been raised of if they should end the life support spells. Her magical aura is thin at best, I've seen her Ron, she's just a shell of a body."

He collapsed on the floor, leaning the back his head against the side of the occupied bed, facing away from Hermione. His mouth worked on autopilot in a vein attempt to solicit more information from his friend to take away the thought of his fiery sister lying cold in a stark hospital bed.

"You said you've been worried about Fred and George since it happened," Ron's lips sounded.

Hermione too used the slight change of subject to regain control of herself, "Yes. Well, let's just say that they've thrown themselves into their less known work for the Order."

"Which is?" he prompted.

"From what Harry and I have been able to piece together they're helping with weapon development for the capture of Death Eaters during attacks. But they are very, very intense and sometimes their inventions turn up where they shouldn't do or they do much more damage than requested. It won't be long before their thrown into Azkaban on a charge of criminal damage."

Ron's brain had finally caught up with his mouth as he could focus on something other than depression- hate. "Can you really blame them?" he asked.

She thought for a moment before answering. "No. Not really."

"So that's it then," Ron breathed, "That's the great Weasley family."

Hermione fidgeted uneasily, "Well not quite."

"Oh yeah, Percy," Ron silently berated himself but worried for a moment about how easy it was to separate his toad of a brother from the others.

"Yeah Percy." Again Hermione shifted with apprehension but Ron was still too far-gone to realise, "Look Ron I don't know how far gone he is in your world. I mean in respect to how close he is to the ministry-"

"Licking their backside," he offered.

"Right." The word had a touch of hardness to it in reaction his terminology but Hermione chose to carry on without any real reprimand, "Well, here he's been worming his way up to the point of complete corruption by the machiavellian politics. The Order thinks that the Death Eaters will try to initiate him within the next year or so after the little rat has completely forgotten his family. Though I wonder if that hasn't already happened."

There was a knock at the door and Harry carefully re-entered.

"How's he doing?" he asked Hermione after glancing at Ron's lonely, motionless figure on the floor.

She glanced quickly at her lost friend, her face laced with worry, "I'm not sure but I think he'll be alright. I hope he'll be alright." She was thankful for the reprieve the interruption gave. The memories she'd had to deal with were ones she'd hoped she would never have to remember again and thinking about Percy's desertion always got her riled up.

But though Ron may still have _seemed_ to be staring into nothingness something important was happening, that missing part had finally clicked in his brain- 'worming his way up', 'the little rat'. Pieces of the puzzle finally fit.

"Oh, I am such an idiot!" he yelled into the room.

"Ron?" Hermione questioned with a nervous look in her red eyes.

He stood quickly and turned to Harry, "What did the man who killed me look like?"

"What?" Harry was at a loss to see where his friend was going with this.

"Your Ron, the night he was murdered. What did the killer look like?"

"It's all a bit blurry I'm not sure-"

"Harry this is really not the time for a lapse in memory!" Ron grabbed him by the shoulders and starred him straight in the eyes. "Now what did he look like!?"

Harry glanced at Hermione in alarm and mumbled out what he could, "Erm…barely taller than me, looked like he should have a bit of weight on him, thin hair and I think his face was pointed but really Ron I don't know what this has to do with anything."

"I knew it!" Ron leapt in triumph.

"You knew that Harry doesn't have any idea what you're on about?" Hermione asked in complete confusion.

But Ron ignored both of them and hurried to the door. "We've got to see Dumbledore. Now!"

"Ron?" Harry and Hermione watched his retreating figure in bewilderment and hurried after him when his dramatic exit suddenly sunk in.

They could hear him muttering to himself as he ran down the stairwell. "We can't be sure how much damage has been done. Next time Hermione should defiantly be the one to open the wrong bloody door! "

Back in the dormitory a silent rat made its way back to its owners, feeling vey pleased with itself.

* * *

AN: I really can't thank you enough for the reviews andIknowI say this every chapter but thank you and thank you again! Also too to nattieb for without heryou would probably be very confused by now- if you aren't already. 

Now to question time:-

Pureangel- here's your answer to Ginny's whereabouts. I do watch sliders now and again but lack of access to Sky TV kind of limits what programs I can watch so I've only seen a couple of series.

Maygin- I cannot believe that you quated my own work at me- that was definatly a first! I hope that this chapter meets with your expectations it's a little daunting to know that somebody _really_ reads your work. Thank you again.

sea-me-surf- Now I can't really tell you how the story is going to end can I? It would take all the fun out of it. But rest assured that Ginny is not dead.

Till next week bub bye


	15. The Lost Map

The Lost Map

"Ron stop!" Harry shouted as he and Hermione hauled themselves down the Gryffindor staircase. Hermione hit him soundly on the back of the head, "Hey, what was that for?" he questioned, temporarily distracted from the chase.

She gave him a hard look and shook her head before she too called out, "_Robert_, come back here!"

Harry gave a silent "oh" at his name mistake and quickly followed the two in front of him who had gained some distance during his distraction, "Hey! Wait up!" He launched forward and grabbed at Ron's arm to slow him down.

Ron was still stuck in a one-track mind over his recent epiphany to hear the voices of his friends call him back. It wasn't until Harry clutched at his arm that his stride paused but that didn't stop him from trying to pull away.

The grand spectacle of the three friends had now gained the attention of everyone in the tower. It quickly became apparent that the news from Dumbledore and the talk in the dormitories had soaked up the whole afternoon, clearly shown by the fact that the common room was now bursting inquisitive students just back from class. But it was only Hermione who noticed their stares.

Behind some of the masks of curiosity lay hard balls of emotion carved by years of distrust. Any words said now in front of these people would experience a delay of mere seconds before finding their way into the twitching ear of Professor Smith. So it was with amazingly quick thinking that Hermione distracted the boys before they could shout out any compromising information.

"Robert Millings give me my potions work back right now!"

Hermione's words shocked Ron into reality; he and Harry stared at her in confusion. She felt a brief wash of déjà vu as she tried to convince them with her eyes to just follow her lead, the brief image of a troll lying on a bathroom floor and the stern face of Professor McGonagall flashed before her mind.

Harry caught on first having just noticed the interest they were receiving. He turned to Ron and widened his eyes in effort to get the message across, "Yeah Rob give it back."

Ron was still completely lost.

"Don't play the fool with me," Hermione spoke quickly to fill in the gaps, "I know that you've been wasting your time reading that Quidditch book instead of doing that essay on Potions Influence on Muggle Literature for Professor Snape. I finished last night and now it isn't in my bag so just hand it over. I know it was you."

Thinking it was just Hermione on one of her homework lectures the majority of the audience tuned out her voice but a few lingering ears remained and she begged silently for Ron to continue the façade.

Finally he realised what she was trying to do, though it stung that his two friends didn't understand how important it was that he got to Dumbledore. "Look I was going to give it back to you," he started then faltered as he tried to think of an excuse to get them away from the last annoying listeners, "but- but I left it in the library!" The tone of triumph in his words sounded odd for the situation but it was luckily ignored as the final whisperer grew bored.

"Fine! Let's go get it then shall we?" Hermione suggested signalling for them to leave.

Now with a legitimate excuse to leave the common room after classes but before the evening meal the trio stepped out of the portrait and headed towards Dumbledore's office.

"Ron we still have absolutely no idea what is going through that weird head of yours," Harry pressed.

"I know."

His non-answer annoyed Harry and he tersely stated his question, "Well are you going to tell us?"

Ron ignored his tone and carried on with a purposeful stride, "It'll be easyier if you just wait until we see the Headmaster."

"Fine," Harry breathed in annoyance while Hermione strayed to back trying her best not to laugh at the irony of the situation- usually Harry was the one holding back information.

Eventually the familiar gargoyle was sighted and the fast pace that Ron lead became even quicker. "Finally," he muttered under his breath. "Liquorish."

As they rose on the staircase Ron fought to remain in control of his emotions. It was difficult to believe that it had only been a few hours since he'd learnt about 'his' father's death and, more recently, the fate of his family. To Ron the world was slipping, it didn't matter where he was or who he was with, it was still the Weasleys that had suffered from the most obvious secret war in wizarding history. Something should have changed. At such magnitude of the news he'd had to face today something must be different to symbolise the loss he felt. It should be raining, there should be lightning in the sky, the Grim should have made an appearance at least once! But no, as they re-entered the office everything remained as it had before: Portraits slept on the wall, Fawks rested on his perch, a clockwork counter ticked away the seconds. Granted Ron hadn't taken these things in on his first visit but it was obvious that they had always been there, that they always would be there. Or should that be that it _seemed_ like they would always be there?

"Hello again Mr Millings. How can I help you?" The Professor's voice brought Ron back to the matter at hand.

"Sir I need to talk to you. It's very important." Ron hoped that his eyes conveyed that this wasn't the type of conversation that could be discussed openly. He remembered how careful Dumbledore had been, when he had spoken to them earlier, knowing that even his own office wasn't safe.

The Headmaster glanced at Harry and Hermione before returning his steady gaze to Ron from behind his desk. His head nodded slightly and Ron sighed in relief.

"I am sorry but I cannot speak to you right now. I have an important report to write for the ministry," he apologised.

Harry and Ron stared at him in disbelief but Hermione lips quirked in a smile. She tried to convey to the boys to keep calm knowing that Dumbledore had a trick up his sleeve.

"In fact, I was just going to gather some of the information that I need for the letter. I will accompany you out." The Headmaster rose slowly from his chair.

Ron seemed to have improved his body-reading skills as, while Harry still looked confused and slightly betrayed, he was sure that Dumbledore was merely moving them to a new, safer room in which to speak. "Sir, this involves Professor Lupin as well," he quickly spoke up.

The old wizard glanced back at Fawks before guiding the students out of the room; the phoenix disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Ron wondered if the stricter restrictions made it easier for the group to travel around the castle or more dangerous. On the one hand no one was around to see anything, on the other if anyone did see them then they weren't the most inconspicuous of troops. When they suddenly stopped he was surprised to see the door to the Room of Requirement in front of him.

Dumbledore entered wordlessly and the others silently followed. On entrance Ron saw the room decked with dark wooded furniture of five chairs and a circular table, already seated on the far side was Professor Lupin.

"You received my message," Dumbledore stated to the werewolf.

"Yes, Fawks was very prompt," Lupin cast his eyes over Harry, Hermione and Ron, "I'm not sure why I am here though."

"Perhaps if we all take a seat all will be explained. Is that not right Mr Weasley?"

Ron felt uncomfortable under the Headmaster's gaze and hurried to sit down between his two friends.

At Dumbledore's request the table became laden with food. "As we are missing dinner at the moment," he explained gesturing at the meal, "tuck in." He reached for his cutlery and the others followed suit though even Ron didn't feel hungry at the moment. "Well Ron?" Dumbledore pushed.

Ron's mind suddenly filled with doubts- what if he was wrong? What if he'd asked for a shot on goal and dropped the quaffle? His mouth became dry but a quick glance at Lupin's flickering eyes gave him a renewed sense of confidence. "Professor, could you tell me what happened on the night of Sirius Black's capture?" he directed towards the Defence teacher. If Dumbledore found this question odd he didn't show any outward sign though Harry's face quickly darkened at the thought of his murdering godfather being brought up yet again.

Grudgingly Lupin answered. "I thought that the three of you, sorry, the two of you and our Ron," he said with a look towards Harry and Hermione, "would be visiting Hagrid that night because of Buckbeak's planned execution. So when on the map I saw Sirius' name I left to help you as soon as possible knowing you to be in danger," he ignored Ron's snort, "when I reached the willow Black had been knocked out, his body returned from its animagus form. Harry stood over him with a wand whilst Hermione seemed torn between helping Ron, who had somehow been hurt, and stopping Harry from committing murder. I didn't have long to react before Severus appeared with his own brand of justice. Before Sirius could even regain consciousness he'd been given the Dementor's kiss." Lupin's voice had become emotionless as he fought to place a barrier between him and his long dead best friend.

"Good riddance," hissed Harry though everyone pretended not to hear.

After briefly being wrong footed by the nature of Sirius' death Ron reacted directly now, feeling in full control of the odd interrogation

"Okay," he said, "Now would you like to tell us who you really saw on that map?"

Hermione gasped in alarm at Ron's tone towards a teacher but he was past caring as Lupin stared into his eyes. The time worn face was torn between a look of relief and horror.

"Are you telling me that that was real?"

Ron stood up quickly from his chair in short tempered display of anger, "Are you telling me that you never told anyone about it!?"

Lupin's uncomfortable look gave him his answer.

"As interesting as this is would one of you care to tell me what map you are talking of."

Ron glanced in surprise at the Headmaster's ignorance and sat back down when it became clear that this would be Remus' confession.

"He's talking of the Marauder's Map sir," Lupin began, "It is a plan of all the Hogwarts grounds with every named being listed along with their movements. I was going to tell you of its existence but when it disappeared a week after Sirius' death I thought that Snape had taken it and well… there was just never the right time."

Quiet disappointment shone from Dumbledore, it's silent glare more terrible than any violent reprimand. Shaking his head slightly the Headmaster turned to Ron, "Am I correct in believing that this was the night our two worlds parted ways?" Ron nodded. "Then perhaps you could tell me what could have happened."

Ron gave a brief account of that night initially leaving out Wormtail by name knowing that it would be best to get the time travelling part out of the way first.

"So you understand that I wasn't there when they saved Buckbeak or Sirius but I was defiantly there when we found out the truth."

"Oh, so you _are_ going to tell us why you saved that killer then are you?" spoke Harry sarcastically. The talk so far had been distinctly painful for him with every truth he had known for the past years being slowly ripped away.

Ron looked at Harry and forced their gaze to meet, "Harry, Sirius didn't give your parents away to V-Voldemort. They changed secret keepers at the last minute."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose in surprise and Lupin looked as though he had swallowed a very large and bitter pill. "It was Wormtail Harry, it was the last of the marauders- Peter Pettigrew."

He continued over the gasps of surprise before anyone could interrupt.

"Peter faked his own death and turned into his animagus form of a rat- otherwise known as Scabbers and passed down pet of the Weasley family. If I'm right, and I'm sure that I am, then he didn't just murder your parents Harry-"

Hermione's eyes widened and teared in realisation as she whispered the finish of his sentence, "He killed you as well."

* * *

AN: And now your all wondering why aren't you. Tough. You'll just have to wait a few more chapters to find out. The end is now drawing near and the real action is soon to begin.

Thankyou to every reviewer it's nice to hear from some familiar names, and again to nattieb even if we do have slight differences of opinion over English/American spelling.

Cheekychick- Don't worry about Sirius the truth is known.  
Karla Marie- you were right.  
eckles- I havn't forgotten about them, there is another jump planned in the next couple of chapters.  
sea-me-surf- If you note my other stories you'll see that I can't write a truely depressing ending so don't worry too much. Though I hope to get you reaching for the tissues very soon.

Bub bye till next week!


	16. Shutting the Proverbial Stable Door

Shutting the Proverbial Stable Door

"He killed you as well."

The words reverberated around the room and all eyes secured on Ron, he merely nodded in confirmation. Harry was the first to break contact. He clumsily stood and moved quietly to the back of the room, his head bowed. Hermione stilled at her words and covered her mouth with her hands as if to take back her utterance.

Dumbledore broke the heavy silence. "Are you sure of this Mr Weasley?" his voice was dull with defeat.

"Certain, sir. I think he took the map as well when he realised that Professor Lupin had seen Sirius' name," Ron answered. He looked at the ashen faces surrounding him, now motionless by shock, and felt annoyance at their unnerving lack of action. "Sir, I'm worried about how much information Wormtail has passed on to Voldemort's supporters. If he's had the run of the school unsupervised all this time then who knows what he's picked up," he pressed trying to stir them into movement.

Harry's head jerked slightly at Ron's words. It was the first time his friend had ever said You-Know-Who's name without stuttering. He wondered if Ron even realised.

Behind the unreadable Headmaster's eyes a battle was taking place. He too had noted Mr Weasley's changing attitude to the dark forces corrupting his school and it may have been that which turned his mind from the dark well of finality he had almost resigned himself to. Mr Weasley was correct in his thinking that such a spy would have been undermining the Order at every chance- indeed it explained a few inconsistencies. However, would this information make any difference now? Was it worth shutting the stable door after the horse had bolted?

Albus had realised a very long time ago that the key to defeating your enemy was to never let them know what you were thinking, to be unpredictable so that they could never trap you into your own patterns. He had failed with Hogwarts. His love of the school and its students had ensnared him in a way in which all others had failed. A battle against the walls could be defeated, a physical blow deflected. But an insidious attack could root the weed before its thistle was even noticed. In all honesty it was no longer a question of _if_ the forces of darkness would overpower him, it was a question of when.

His unreadable face now not only concealed his thoughts from his enemies but from his allies as well. As long as no one realised how clearly he saw the end there would still be hope, though to those who really knew him the fatigue was clear. They would fight to the last man standing- that had never been in question- but a select few knew, and many more suspected, that this was a fight that would end with the final member of The Cause taking their last breath. The tide had turned and the answering sea was rough; this was the end of the world as they knew it.

Dumbledore's eyes glinted as they cast their critical eye over Ron again. The sight of a gangly, teenage boy was not an obvious sign of hope, but did not the fate of a fair few worlds rest in the hands of another young hero with unruly hair and a lightning shaped scar? Maybe this world could not be saved, the rot went too deep; but in Ron's world? Perhaps his world could be saved from such a fate with the knowledge gained by the experience that he was receiving here.

The Headmaster mentally scolded himself for allowing his disciplined mind to give in to Voldemort's chipping chisel of mistrust and hate. It was still possible for a miracle to occur and negative thinking was only going to cause events to rush towards their conclusion faster. Their fates were not written in the stars or sewn into a tapestry. The forces of truth, honesty and equality could still win this war.

He ignored the rules of probability, which stated that, in some worlds at least, the result must be darkness. Every decision could go one way or the other and he resisted the thought that in his world the decisions had already been made.

"There is a chance that all is not lost," Dumbledore spoke, "we need to work out exactly what Pettigrew knows and if we can capture him it would give us a great advantage."

"I don't think that he knows about Ron," Lupin finally spoke, his voice sounded dry and scratchy, "If he did then we would all be under much closer scrutiny."

Hermione thought for a moment. "Although we've used the word 'world' a couple of times and stressed the difference between the two Ron's I don't think enough information could have been overheard for curiosity to be raised."

"Sorry Hermione but that isn't true," broke in Harry quietly, still hiding at the back of the room, "If our conversations were overheard from today then questions will definitely be asked."

"Maybe not," Ron argued back, "jumping between worlds isn't the most common of things to happen, not even for wizards. Remember as well that this is _Wormtail _we're talking about; he's a rat in all senses of the word. He won't pass on any information he's not sure of in case it's wrong and backfires."

Harry's thoughts though hadn't truly left their dredge through the memories of the worst night of his life. "Why didn't he come back and try again?" he whispered rhetorically.

Ron's forehead crinkled in confusion but Hermione understood as her thoughts had been travelling in the same direction as Harry's. She rose from her seat and walked slowly towards her vulnerable friend, as if he were an trapped animal ready to bolt.

"Harry," she whispered gently, "It wasn't your fault, okay?" She placed her hands on either side of his stooped head and gently forced eye contact. "Listen to me. You did not kill Ron. The man, if he deserves the description, that did is a coward who ran as soon as it was obvious that he couldn't complete his task."

"Why didn't he try again? Why not some other night?" He broke away from her grip, "Damn it Hermione! Why did it have to be Ron?" He calmed down slightly and stared at the floor, his back to everyone, "And why my Godfather? Isn't that my fault as well?"

Ron stirred suddenly from his stupor of watching his best friend disintegrate before his eyes. Swiftly he ran over to Harry and grabbed his shoulders. The limp body in his hands turned easily. "Harry," he breathed, desperately trying to find the words, "Sirius was a strong, brave man who loved you very, very much. He would _not_ blame you for what happened."

Harry's eyes were watery but Ron could see a tiny glimmer of hope behind a barrier of guilt, "How do you know he cared about me here? This isn't your world, I never even spoke to him once."

Ron thought quickly back to third year and smiled slightly. "Do you remember the Grim at the quidditch match?" Harry nodded. "That was him. He wanted to see you fly- dead impressed he was. You reminded him of your father. And your Firebolt? That was him too, said it was for all of those birthdays he missed. He came back to Hogwarts to save you. He went after Wormtail to avenge you. He loved you and never, _ever _blamed you for _anything_."

Ron felt odd saying those sentimental words, they went against his blunt nature, but he could see that they were what Harry needed to hear.

"Of course he was slightly hypocritical by asking _you _to stay out of trouble when _he_ deliberately went looking for it. And fleas Harry- Merlin, that dog form should have carried its own health warning. Oh yeah, not forgetting the fact that he _actually liked_ Crookshanks!"

Harry gave chocked laugh at Hermione's humph of indignation. "Well we can't all be perfect," he sighed.

Ron smiled as his friend walked back from the precipice. Glancing at Hermione she saw her look at him approvingly and he felt a strong feeling of accomplishment.

"We will have to be more careful around the school," Lupin spoke bringing the attention of the group back to the decisions that Dumbledore needed to make.

The Headmaster bowed his head slightly in deliberation. "None of us are to talk of Mr Weasley's origins in any type of unencoded manner again, no matter how safe the area seems." The others nodded in acquiescence. "I will talk to those few members of staff that share our knowledge. Everyone must also remain vigilant in case Pettigrew makes anymore unwanted visits."

He cast his gaze over Ron once more, "I will ensure that back up plans are in place should the worst happen Mr Weasley. Do not worry. You will go home."

Ron stepped forwards towards the Headmaster, "Sir, I'm willing to do anything I can to help."

"That isn't necessary Mr Weasley."

"But I should have realised who Peter was earlier. I'm sorry," he muttered to the floor.

Dumbledore stood and looked down on the boy kindly, "I think that I too would have been slow to connect a killer to a harmless family pet of twelve years. Do not think badly of yourself, we know _now_ and that is what matters." He turned to the rest of the room, "Come now, time passes and we are all missed."

Professor Lupin left first after making sure that the corridor was clear with Harry and Hermione close behind. Harry was still very quiet and introspective but Hermione guided him out sensing that Ron wasn't quite finished.

Dumbledore also noticed his hesitancy, "Yes Mr Weasley?"

"I want to see my sister, sir."

Ron's voice was uncompromising and, though Dumbledore would have preferred to resist such a request during such times, he answered quickly. "It will take some arranging but I will see what I can do," he agreed.

Ron grimly turned up the corners of his mouth and exited quickly. The table of untouched food promptly disappeared and the room became swallowed by darkness with only the Dumbledore's thoughts to feed from.

* * *

AN: Thank you all for your reviews- they really are wonderful, and of course to nattieb.

I have a confesion to make- I am very worried about this chapter. It's a little shorter than I'd like,a little less action packed than I'd prefer _and_ I delved into Dumbledore's mind, which is always a risky thing to do. In conclusion the next one will hopefully bebetter. Get ready for atrip to St Mungo's.


	17. Salt Water Stains on Sterilised Sheets

Salt Water Stains on Sterilised Sheets

The succeeding days dragged by as if lumbered with a fear of crawling any faster than snails pace. For Ron this was extremely exasperating. As of yet no news had come from Dumbledore about when he would be able to take the trip to St Mungo's in order to see Ginny even though the Professor was now seated back in his proper position at the Head Table. Lessons ticked by slowly, security became stricter and all too quickly there were only three days left until it would be time for him to return to his own world.

Ron's agitation and nervousness had been slowly building up since the meeting in the Room of Requirement; this was quite obvious to Harry and Hermione as he took out his frustrations on them.

"Damn it!" he yelled, throwing down the glass of pumpkin juice he'd been drinking from until it had slipped and the liquid drenched his robes.

"Well it's your own fault," chided Hermione, "if you just concentrated on one thing at a time instead of stuffing your face with food _and_ drink then maybe you wouldn't have poured it all over yourself."

"Well, I'm sorry that I can't multi-task like you, little miss perfect."

"Rob, it's not about multi tasking, it's about multi-_thinking_, and that's where you fail." She didn't mean the words but that didn't stop her anger from releasing them.

"Well I don't see you _multi-thinking_ when writing those bloody letters!"

Hermione's anger melted into confusion and silence sank around the three; it was then broken by a guffaw from Harry.

"Do you realise how stupid that sounded?" he laughed.

Ron blushed and Hermione bit back her own laughter.

"Wrong world," they heard Ron mutter under his breath.

"What was that about?" questioned Hermione.

Ron shifted on his seat and reached for a pasty in a weak attempt to create a diversion. "You know maybe they're trying to weaken our resistance through the lack of food," he started lamely, "I haven't seen any chocolate cake for ages."

"Rob that was pathetic. Now I was going to reprimand you for turning Harry and I into human punch bags for your personal emotional duping, which you really need to stop doing by the way, but this has just peeked my interest. Why would me writing letters be cause for offence? I don't even write that many."

Ron shuffled again and Harry could just about make out the words "Krum", "letters" and "git".

"What? I didn't quite catch that," Hermione teased.

"Something about crummy letters being gits I think," Harry smiled.

"Fine! Fine. You can both stop being annoying now I'll tell you. It isn't _that_ interesting."

Hermione glanced over Ron's shoulder and shared a good humoured look with Harry, "Maybe not, but it has got you blushing so I think it's worth it."

Ron slumped and spoke very quietly, "Okay, so maybe in my- at home," he stumbled over his clumsy slip, "y- I mean a friend I have, that just happens to be a girl- well you see she has this Bulgarian boyfriend who she writes long letters to even though he's years older _and_ only after one thing." His voice had speeded up as his irritation at her behaviour flowed.

Hermione thought back to the conversation they'd had at the beginning of the month about their relationship, or lack of, in his world and came to one conclusion- he was mistaken.

He had to be. She knew this boy inside out after dating him for so long and she knew herself. Hermione tried to remember the exact words they'd shared when he'd accusingly pushed that photo of his twin and her together at the beginning of the month. The exchange had been a difficult maelstrom of emotions, so the facts gleamed were difficult to call back. However she could clearly remember her friend's angry tone at the quidditch superstar and though she could barely recall the Bulgarian's presence Hermione was pretty sure that she wouldn't fancy him whilst Ron was around.

"Are you absolutely _sure_ that he's her boyfriend?" she asked slowly.

"Yes of course."

Hermione gave him an incredulous look.

"Okay so maybe she _say's_ he's just a friend," Ron quickly carried on after Hermione smirked, "but she's obviously lying. Why else would she keep talking to him? The international relations excuse left when he did."

Hermione smiled to herself whilst Harry shook his head in mirth.

"Maybe," she said, taking Ron's hand, "she really is just friends with him because if it was _me _in that situation and _I _knew that it bothered you then _I'd_ partly be doing it deliberately to get a rise."

Ron sat in confusion, "Really?"

"Well, if not deliberately then certainly unconsciously." Still battling against his deep-rooted denial she continued, "Believe me when I tell you that she isn't going to choose a guy she sees once in a blue moon over you. Okay?"

Ron nodded his head slightly but still didn't really trust her words.

"Just give up," Harry chuckled, "he'll work it out in the end."

Ron shot him a weak death glare before returning to his lunch. The fork, however, was prevented from ever reaching his mouth by a dry voice twinged with a disposition of sarcasm.

"Mr Millings if you will please follow me I wish to discuss your last… attempt at writing a coherent potions essay."

Ron paled slightly at Professor Snape's voice and was slow to react.

"Any time today would be just fine," the teacher snarled. Ron jumped out of his seat and, after receiving some commiserating and curious looks from his friends, he followed the sweeping robes of the pale man whom had already reached the hall exit.

The brief moment of silence filled with echoing footsteps as they walked towards the dungeons was broken by Snape's cool voice, "It is odd is it not Mr Millings how Hogwarts can alter to suit its children's needs?"

"Sir?" Ron was wondering what on earth this had to do with potions, in fact he couldn't remember what he could have possibly done wrong in his last essay that was worse than anybody else's.

Snape smarted at his pupil's lack of intelligence, "_Passageways_ Millings. Helpful corridors that can be _created_ in times of need."

Ron had by now got the idea that maybe the professor wasn't talking about school work, though that didn't make the true nature of their conversation any clearer.

Snape's indecipherable face became twinged with exasperation, "_Helpful_ tunnels that, for a purely hypothetical situation, may begin say… at the at the bottom corner of the Griffindor table in the Great Hall."

Ron's brain finally overcame it's stagnancy caused by shock and realised what Snape was saying, "You mean the corner that's hidden from the top table and anyone standing along the outside of the hall."

"Purely hypothetically of course."

Ron could have sworn he saw a slight smile on his potions teacher's face but quickly dismissed the thought, "Of course. So if this tunnel existed then it would lead to…"

"Into a certain disused corridor." There was another silence as Snape allowed the information to stabilise in Ron's brain- he meant, of course, the corridor that lead to the Doorway of Many Worlds. "To enter such a passage way," he continued, "a certain code would be needed would it not?"

"Yes certainly sir, couldn't have it so anyone could use it." Ron glanced nervously around the empty corridor, "So how would a person enter a non-existent tunnel in the Great Hall?"

"I am not certain," Snape began, "for when I asked the same question of Dumbledore he merely said that 'only those who solemnly swear that they are up to no good' would know what to do if such occasion was to arise."

They stopped outside Snape's office door, "Do you understand Mr Millings?"

Ron thought for a moment. To be perfectly honest no he didn't entirely understand but seeing the impatient look on Snape's face he decided he understood enough- if the worse happened while he was trapped in the Great Hall then there was a way of escaping and the code had something to do with the Marauder's map. Resolving himself to ask Hermione about the rest later on Ron gave a brief nod to the professor and followed him into his office.

After Ron had entered Snape shut the door soundly and muttered some strong silencing and locking charms. "You have half an hour Mr Weasley. Thirty minutes." He pointed towards a broken glass beaker on his desk. "The portkey will take you directly to her bed. The ward should be clear."

Ron's face crinkled in confusion but at the moment he realised that this was the chance he'd been waiting for for the past week he felt his body empty of frustrations and annoyances only to find the new space filled with fear and dread. The wave of terror prevented him from being surprised that Snape knew who he really was.

Seeing his hesitation Severus debated with himself and spoke the only compassionate words he would ever say to a Griffindor- and a Weasley none the less, "Just try to remember what the reality is Ron. Learn from this and do not ever let it happen when you return home."

Ron turned in surprise to face the teacher, who was now pretending that the last words he had spoken had come from some invisible stranger and not an indifferent potions master. Trembling slightly he returned his gaze to the beaker and slowly stepped forward, reaching out a sweaty hand till it touched the cool glass.

He felt a familiar jerking sensation and around him the dark, shadow cast office drained away to be replaced by a blinding whiteness. Ron blinked and looked around the new room, a familiar hospital smell clogging his nostrils. There were four beds, one of which was hidden by drawn curtains, and the sun glared through the window on the wall behind him. A quick glance revealed that he recognised none of the three prone bodies he could see, which could mean only one thing- that Ginny was behind the curtains of the far bed. Warily he edged forward, one foot shakily stepping in front of the other. Did he really want to be here? Did he really want to know?

Time was being wasted as he stilled in indecision till a sharp shout came from outside the ward door and grabbed his attention. Ron held his breath at the sound of hurried footsteps and let out a sigh of relief as they passed by. The shock spurned his lagging limbs into movement until, without realising it, he was stood in front of the hanging curtains. Tremulously his fingers reached to draw the opaque barrier back. The drape rustled in his hand and the metal rings holding it to the guiding iron bar on the low ceiling screeched, but the harsh sound was muffled by the heavy stillness.

The sight of the body laid out on the hospital bed caused him to jump backwards in surprise. That couldn't really be his sister. Could it?

Taking a gulp of air, for his mouth was too dry for saliva, Ron looked back at the ghost sleeping in the sheets. On the one hand she was beautiful, a fine porcelain doll kept in pristine condition and brought out only for show. But that wasn't real. Her ceramic skin was dry, her fiery red hair was dull and he silently gave thanks that her eyes were closed as he was certain that he didn't have the strength to see those sparkling windows to the soul all boarded up and derelict.

"Ginny what have they done to you?" Ron whispered.

He stiffly sat down on a well-used visitor's seat and gently took her hand in his, feeling surprise when he felt warmth emanating from the flesh. He was half-expecting ice. Staring at her he searched for another sign of life. Anything at all that would prove that this doll was his sister.

Ron edged closer and ran his free hand through her long, wispy hair. "Come on Ginny wake up," he implored, "it's me. It's Ron, you know your annoying prat of a brother."

There was no response.

After quickly wiping away a stray tear he clutched her fingers with both of his hands. "Come on Ginikins. I know you hate that name, yell at me. Please." His voice was desperate and his grip tightened as she continued to ignore him. "I'm back from the bloody dead here the least you could do is acknowledge me!" His chewed nails dug into her soft flesh as he released his pain onto her, "Wake up!"

"Wake up!" he shouted again.

Standing up sharply he knocked over the chair he was sitting on but took no notice of the empty clatter as he stood over her and glared into her insolent face. His arms reached to her shoulders and he jerked her limp body once, twice, three times in a fit of rage. "Damn it Ginny you selfish twit! Can't you see that this is killing me?"

Abruptly he stopped, pulled away in horror and retreated as quickly as possible. He stared at his hands as if they were covered in blood and collapsed to the cold floor.

"I'm sorry Ginny," he muttered over and over, "So sorry. So sorry."

Over time the repenting receded and he could look again at the figure wrapped up in the now dishevelled bedclothes. Unsteady on his feet Ron stood and cautiously walked towards Ginevra's wilted body. Her arms lay at uncomfortable angles and her head lolled to one side yet there was no sign of discomfort on her face. He wanted to hide his face in shame but forced himself to put her right. Lovingly he turned her head and, after resetting the sheets, placed one hand on top of the other resting on her stomach. He stared again drinking in her serenity but was prevented by a disquiet thought at the back of his mind. After a few moments he started suddenly as he realised that he had unconsciously formed her body into the traditional funeral pose. Quickly he moved her hands and set them either side, parallel to the edge of the mattress; there was no need for safety bars, she wasn't going anywhere.

Red marks bled from his earlier rough treatment of her hand and the guilt returned. Softly he rubbed his callused fingers over the blemishes, a feeling of inadequacy adding to the despair. He lifted the hand to his lips and gave an inane attempt at kissing it better, tasting a bitter cocktail of a twinge of iron from the dried droplets of blood and salt water from tears he didn't know he was weeping.

"I love you Ginny," he whispered barley audibly, "I know I've never really said it but I do. And I know that you can hear me- I'm sure you can. So I'm going to make you a promise." His voice gained confidence, "Don't smirk at me I am actually going to keep this promise. No, it isn't that I'll back off over your boyfriend choices when I get home," he chocked on the word and cleared his throat, "and it isn't that we'll never fight again because we both know that nifflers will fly before that happens." He smiled weakly. "No I don't promise that. But I do promise that I won't let this happen. Do you hear me? I won't."

A bleeping sound interrupted him and Ron turned to see the broken glass beaker beginning to glow. He glanced at a clock on the wall and saw in surprise that indeed a half an hour had passed.

"Okay Gin I gotta go now but I'll see you soon okay? Well, a kind of you anyway." The beeping became more incessant and he speeded up his goodbye, kissing her lightly on the forehead, "See you in the other world Ginny."

He dashed to the portkey and looked at her lonely figure longingly as the white washed walls became replaced with dark, dank dungeons.

"Bye Ginbug." His whisper echoed around the empty office and Ron had to check twice thoroughly to believe that he was really alone.

Confused and worried he pushed open the now unbarred door and treaded the outside corridor softly searching for any sign of human habitation. In fact, house elf, ghost or even boggart life would do right now as the unhealthy silence grated on his brain. Instead of making his way to the Common room, as he would usually do in search of Harry or Hermione, he was drawn to the Great Hall. His intuition proved to be correct as he noticed the wide open doors showing that the tables were full of students.

Inconspicuously he threaded his way to the Griffindor table and sat next to Harry.

"What's going on?" Ron whispered following his friends shocked stare aimed at the head table.

"Dumbledore," he barely heard Harry mutter.

"Dumbledore what?" Ron asked realising the Headmasters absence and Smith's new prominence as she stood at the front of them all flaunting her authority with demanded attention.

"He's gone."

Ron tore his gaze away and gawked at Harry. Horror filled his gut at hearing the words.

"What do you mean?" he asked, fearing the answer.

"I mean," said Harry turning to face Ron and failing to notice his friends chaotic, drawn appearance, "that Dumbledore was just taken to St Mungo's and there is serious doubt about whether he will come back."

* * *

AN: Thank you to Nattieb for making the beginning of this chapter even more fun to write and to all of my faithfull reviewers- can you feel the love? You should need it after that chapter. Depressed yet? 


	18. Three More Days

Three More Days

Three days and he would be back. Three more days; that was seventy-two hours, or four thousand three hundred and twenty minutes, or two hundred and fifty-nine thousand and two hundred seconds. Not that she was counting.

Hermione sighed heavily and returned her quill to the blank piece of parchment lying on the desk in front of her. She could feel its unwritten lines laughing at her, teasing her inability to concentrate and scorning the know-it-all that couldn't even think of a title for a piece of simple transfiguration homework.

"I'm going insane," she muttered to herself, scrunching up the impertinent paper and chucking it at the back wall of the library with enough force to make it bounce straight back at her.

"Er… Hermione?" a cautious voice asked, "Are you okay?"

She turned to Neville and gave a reassuring smile but the quick mood change only served to worry him more. "I'm just fine," she spoke hoping that her voice didn't betray her.

He glanced at her in disbelief as he took in the piles of screwed up parchment littering the back of the library- he wasn't used to seeing a Hermione so willing to experience the wrath of Madam Price, mind, everything she'd done this month had been odd. She gave him an all-too-innocent smile in reply and Neville decided to change the subject.

"So how's Ron's aunt doing then?"

"Huh?" Hermione's mind drew a blank.

"Ron's aunt… the one he's looking after at the moment… the reason he hasn't been at Hogwarts for the past four weeks…" he prompted.

She clicked and cursed herself for the slip, "Oh! Yes, of course."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"How is she? I thought that he was writing to you and Harry."

Hermione silently begged for the floor to open up beneath her and flushed with embarrassment at not even being able to maintain a simple conversation. She felt as coherent as cotton wool with the constant worry of Ron filling her mind. Questions that she tried to keep suppressed for Harry's sake and her own sanity surfaced again: _Was he okay? What was he doing?_ And the one that haunted her the most: _Would he come back? _She tried to quell her fears and answer Neville's question but could come up with no response. Luckily she was saved by another red head.

"You should know better than to try and get anything out of Hermione Neville," came Ginny's voice as she joined them, Hermione sighed in relief, "everyone knows she's got withdrawal symptoms from lack of contact with my brother." She grinned wickedly at her flushing friend. "Isn't that right Hermione?"

Hermione tried to pull herself together. "This has nothing to do with Ron I just… have a headache," she stumbled

"Yes, a headache," Ginny muttered dryly sharing a sarcastic look with Neville.

"Was there something you wanted Neville?" Hermione asked, desperate to change the topic of conversation.

"Not really. I was just wondering if Ron was still coming back at the end of this week."

"He should be," Hermione bit her lip as the worrying thoughts returned.

Ginny spoke before her friend could stumble over another reply; noting as she did that Hermione would defiantly owe her one, or a few hundred, by the end of this month. "Yeah he'll be back," she said confidently, "Aunt Millings is only in need of help till her healer gets back from Sydney and her own family problems."

"You know I still don't entirely get why Ron had to go," Neville wondered aloud, "I mean, this year is quite important for him."

"Well Mom and Dad are really busy at the moment, Bill and Charlie are out of the country and I'm too young apparently. That leaves Ron and the twins- which would you send to help out a sick relative?" Ginny covered up quickly speaking the well-practised lie. She didn't even notice that she'd left someone out.

Standing up Neville gave her a knowing smile as he pictured the twins looking after anyone remotely frail, "Okay. Well I'll see you two later I've got a shield charm to practise with Harry."

The girls said their goodbyes and as soon as the coast was clear Ginny allowed her face to show it's true expression of nervousness. "He will be alright won't he?" she whispered.

Hermione took her hand into hers. "I'm sure he'll be fine," she breathed back trying to make herself believe it. The two sat in a contemplative moment till Hermione broke the silence and, smiling, questioned enviously, "How did you become such a great actress anyway?"

Ginny grinned lightly in return, "Try living fifteen years with five brothers and see how good you get at lying."

"You've got six brothers Gin," Hermione's eyes poured with sympathy.

"No I haven't."

"Gin…"

Ginny pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear in frustration. "Do you think we'll ever tell them the truth," she said, turning the train of conversation yet again.

Hermione sighed in defeat but her eyes made it clear that this was only a temporary victory, "You mean about where Ron really is?" Ginny nodded. "I don't think so, not unless it's something really important. It's dangerous enough having your whole family knowing," she rushed on noticing Ginny's eyes glare, " not that I don't trust them, but it's all too easy for things to be overhead and that doorway is certainly something that should not be played around with."

"I'm really worried about him Hermione. I know he's a pain half the time, okay make that most of the time, but it's so odd not having him around to torment the life out of me."

"I know what you mean," she agreed the words leaving her mouth before she could stop them.

Ginny smirked, "What? So your actually miss the daily arguments over 'Vicky'?"

Hermione gave the younger girl a significant death glare, "Will you just pack it in?"

"No! I can't tease Ron about you so I have to tease you about Ron."

"Ginny…" she half warned, half laughed and then stopped mid smile, "What do you mean you tease him about me?"

"Nothing!" she chirped innocently, inwardly cringing at the slip.

"Come on. Tell me!"

"Merlin, Hermione when did you turn into such a girl?" This earned her a light slap on the arm, "Oh, yes. I'm sorry, fourth year wasn't it? Well that's when my brother realised anyway." Another slap, "Tell me, what do you actually see in him?"

"You wouldn't be asking that question if you weren't related to him." Hermione huffed indignantly.

Ginny laughed out loud, "Ha! You just admitted it! You fancy Ron!"

Hermione swung her eyes around the library in alarm. "Not so loud," she hissed.

"Why not? They already know anyway."

"Just quiet down. Please."

Ginny sat back down silently and an air of conspiracy settled around them, "So when did you finally accept it?"

Hermione's hand unconsciously reached for the necklace around her neck that Ron had given her for Christmas and Ginny smiled knowingly. "I still haven't actually said it you know," she defended.

"But you have accepted it?"

Hermione's mouth closed tightly in answer.

"Tease," Ginny moaned and leant backwards on her chair.

"I don't understand," Hermione began and then faltered, Ginny let her carry on without interruption, "We've been separated longer than this before and I'm certain he's fine, Dumbledore would be more worried else, but I don't _know_ anything." Grudgingly Hermione shifted the blank parchment waiting to be written on to reveal a book that, after a quick glance from Ginny, was revealed to discuss magical doorways. "I can't find the answers," she sighed with frustration.

"You told Harry that you'd take a break," Ginny gently scolded.

"I lied. See I'm not that bad an actress."

"Well, I suppose we could keep looking for another three days," Ginny suggested, receiving a grateful look from her friend, "Just as long as I can continue to mock you about Ron."

The two girls were found laughing lightly when joined by Harry two hours later. There were two hundred and fifty-two thousand seconds left on the timer.

* * *

AN: Thank you to reviewers and nattieb, I hope you liked the dip back home and don't mind me milking last chapters cliffhanger for all its worth.

sea-me-surf- the simple answer is yes.

supernova8610- thank you for practically singlehandedly getting me over the 100 reviews mark.


	19. The Calm Before the Storm

The Calm Before the Storm

Three days had quickly become three hours. That was how long Ron had left in this screwed up world and during those last three hundred and sixty moments he was sitting playing chess in an all too quiet common room.

Ever since he had returned from St Mungo's everything had changed- and definitely not for the better. Apparently, shortly after he had left the hall with Snape, Dumbledore had disappeared as well. Harry had said that the wizard had looked old and drawn and seemed to have a slight problem standing as he exited. Twenty minutes later Smith had entered, taken the Headmaster's seat and declared that he had been taken to hospital and that she would be replacing him as Head of the school.

Ron glanced around the common room and tried to stop himself from shifting uncomfortably and allowing his anxiousness to show in full view. Shrugging off a growing feeling of disquiet he returned his eyes to the chessboard.

"Come on Rob. Concentrate," Harry teased lightly trying to dispel the tension, "I'm winning."

Ron gave a startled look toward his playing pieces and realised that Harry was two moves away from putting him into checkmate. He wondered how that could have possibly happened, but that was a stupid question when the answer was obvious.

As worrying as Dumbledore's disappearance was to Ron there was another emotion eating him from the inside out. Guilt. The constant churning of his stomach had reached butter making levels over the past day, as he was torn between the excitement of finally going home to his _real_ family and friends and remorse at leaving everything he had done here behind. Ron had burst his way into a world that he had technically left a long time ago, pushed himself into the lives of those still grieving and unthinkingly ripped the stitching out of many old wounds. On the other hand he had cleared Sirius' name and gotten an insight into a life he defiantly didn't want to lead and could maybe hope to prevent. The problem being that he was abandoning his new/old friends to this world and whatever it could throw at them.

Any attempt to discuss this little predicament with the others became futile as soon as it was conceived. Ever since Dumbledore's departure keen eyes had been trained on Harry and other key members of the school with questionable loyalties. Ron himself had caught certain portraits watching his every move and was becoming distressed over the question of whether the apparently foolproof plan to get him back home would actually work.

A letter had come from Lupin yesterday detailing that plans were in place for the corridors on route to the Doorway to be clear at exactly fifteen minutes before his departure time. How that was going to happen none of the three were entirely sure but it was just something else in which they would have to trust. In all his years of being friends with Harry Ron had never been entirely in the loop but it felt odd to be centre stage with only the briefest of scripts to follow; maybe this was what it felt like to be the famous Harry Potter.

He glanced at Hermione, a forgotten book in her lap as she watched them play. As his eyes caught hers and became locked together suddenly the feelings of guilt exploded again. He could see the depression she was trying to hide. The pain she was trying to prevent him from seeing.

Unable to stand it any longer he tore away and looked at his other best friend only to wish that eyes had found the floor instead for they practically mirrored Hermione's. What Ron didn't know was that his own face betrayed the same emotions only with the added tinge of betrayal. He was leaving them- again- and he felt as if he were personally handing them over to the dementors.

"You know," Ron began cautiously, "it could be that I can still win this game."

Harry looked at him questioningly.

"But if I did," he continued, "then maybe a couple of your players could be saved if they came with me."

"Robert what _are_ you going on about?" Harry questioned, however Hermione quickly reached for her book in order to excuse herself from the conversation.

"What I'm saying is that wizard chess is a pretty brutal game and I'm sure that some of the pieces would prefer to join a new set rather than… lose." He stared Harry in the eyes and his friend nodded in understanding of what he was trying to say.

"You could offer them a way out yes," Harry said airily as if describing the weather to hide the seriousness of what they were saying, "but they would never fit into another set. They're stuck in the game they've played and to simply leave because things aren't going to get better is a betrayal of their team."

"But Harry your- they're going to lose. You can see that!" Ron pleaded.

"Rob the decision has been made," Hermione spoke quietly, "the pieces will stay where they are, where they are _meant _to be. I'm sorry but it's the only way."

"What if I stayed?"

Hermione shot him a glare at his lack of tact in terms of those listening and the suggestion itself. "Don't be an idiot Robert," she said forcefully whispered, "you have a huge part to play back home and I'm going to get you there if I have to push you through myself. You're needed there. You know that now more than ever."

Ron nodded in grudging acceptance and leaned back in his seat with a heavy sigh. His fingers began tapping restlessly and he glanced at the clock slowly ticking on the wall in front of him.

Harry tidied away the chess set as it became obvious that the game wasn't going to be finished- shame, he may have actually won, and sat down on the couch next to Ron. He felt somewhat relieved that he and Ron couldn't discuss their coming separation. Yes, it was great having his best friend back and alive but he didn't want to have to deal with losing him again any sooner than he would have to. After Ron's death in his world he hadn't been allowed to mourn properly due to Hermione's distress, it may have been that in fact that brought him out of his slow slump into depression as Voldemort grew in power. This time however his friend wasn't dying and he would even get to say goodbye, but he had to keep any emotion in check. The constant watching was a danger to Ron and the Doorway. If anyone had inkling of what was down that corridor well… he couldn't even bare to think about that. He too glanced at the clock and revelled in the comfortableness of being able to sit quietly with his friends- a novelty he now fully appreciated.

Meanwhile Hermione was close to collapse. She had done her best to place a barrier between her Ron and this one but in seemed to be an impossible task. Maybe as she got older it would get easier, maybe one day she could move on, but today wasn't that day and neither was it one of those in the near future. She hid all of this from Ron though. He had only experienced a glimpse of what there could be between them and she couldn't risk his Griffindoric tendencies kicking in and keeping him and his Hermione apart out of some misplaced sense of sacrifice. If he knew how painful it was to be separated he may never allow them to be together in the first place. So she too relaxed into the unique experience of having time to waste without any pressing worries. Glancing at the clock she had two hours left until he had to go home so, locking this moment into her memory forever, she threw her book to the side and placed herself on the floor between the legs of her close friends, leaning her head against the front of the sofa.

Unfortunately the quiet lasted barley ten minutes for soon the portrait door was opened and Umbridge had entered.

"Hem hem." The deliberate cough silenced an already quiet common room. "You are all needed in the Great Hall. Now," she ordered.

Tiredly the Griffindors moved out under the toad's watchful eye. As Harry passed by she reached for his shoulder and held him back. "You will wait and walk with me Potter," her sugary sweet tone barley concealing the hatefulness of her glare. "Move along dearies," she smiled at Ron and Hermione.

The two friends looked at Harry in indecision. "Don't worry," he grimaced slightly and shuck off Umbrigde's touch, "I'll be down in a minute." They grudgingly shuffled away towards the hall when Ron heard Harry's voice, "Mind you don't get caught up in the passageway to the table, you don't want to be caught up in everyone else." His carefully hidden message triggered a sick feeling in Ron's stomach- Harry was reminding him of what Snape had told him to do in case of an emergency.

They had found the seat at dinner yesterday. It was fairly well hidden from the rest of the hall and towards the bottom of the wall behind it had been a brick with the image of an archway scratched into the mortar. Ron nodded to show his understanding and just hoped he wouldn't need to use it.

"Goodbye mate," Harry called once more.

Ron paused before turning to follow Hermione. "Goodbye," he replied, subtly waving back with a grim smile on his face.

It was quiet as every child and teacher sat down at the appropriate tables and the hall doors shut defiantly behind them.

Too quiet.

Ron manoeuvred himself to the corner as advised by Snape and Hermione settled next to him. With Harry still separated the broken trio glanced around nervously, their heartbeats racing and breaths short.

"This is it," she whispered.

"It- It can't be," he stuttered back, terrified, "not this soon."

His denial was to be answered in the calmest of manners. Slowly the great doors re-opened and five cloaked figures entered. No one offered any resistance.

Though the flagstones beneath their feet screamed in agony at being touched by such evil and the magical ceiling was gripped by a manic lightening storm in anger, the children of Hogwarts ignored its call. Every teacher except for Snape and Lupin dipped their heads in deference, two thirds of the pupils of all houses followed their teacher's lead whist any that showed any sign of opposition quickly found a wand trained on their position, often in the hands of the person sitting next to them.

* * *

AN: My beta is adament that you will all hate me now so I take great delight in saying that if you don't yet then you soon will, but that doesn't mean it'll end like that so please don't leave me now.

Thank you to all my reviewers I love you all.

sea-me-surf- this is how it gets worse and there's more to come.

broken rain- it's a pleasure to still get reviews from you especially as you've been reviewing from my very first story. I hope the writing has improved and that the depressive plot twists don't send you running lol. Meanwhile I'll carry on milking.


	20. Make This Not Be Happening

Make This Not Be Happening

Although Ron's seat placed him near the Head Table he was still hidden from sight by the raised seating, meaning that not only were he and the few surrounding him safe from being easily seen but that he was also placed within eavesdropping distance. A conversation began between Smith and the leader of the enemy troop. Ron recognised the hissing voice and finally let go of any hope at all that he was going to get out of this alive.

"Every student is here?" Voldemort asked his tone soft and slippery as it echoed around the hushed hall.

"Every one," Malevolous smiled back, her eyes dancing with glee.

"My mediums are exorcising the remaining difficult ghosts as we speak and I trust that the house elves are… accommodating to their new master."

"Yes sir. All plans are complete and successful."

"Good." The Dark Lord turned from his private conversation and turned to face the rest of his audience.

"Good evening children." he began his pre-planned speech, "This is the beginning. Today is a day that will go down in history as the dawning of a new time. A time where being a pureblood means something. A time when we no longer fear muggles and hide like rats in the dark…"

Voldemort's resonating, tasty words continued but Ron was distracted by Hermione's hand on his arm and her lips near his ear. "You remember what to do don't you?" she whispered.

"What?"

"The passageway Ron," she hissed desperately, "get ready to run for it."

"There's no chance," he hushed back, directing the anger he was feeling at her, "we're being watched from over there," he pointed towards their classmates directly across the table, "oh, and yes, there's the small problem of _Voldemort being here!_"

"You can still get out of here."

"What do you mean?"

"Just wait."

"For what?"

"Trust me Ron"

"Hermione," he whined.

"Shush!" She ignored him and stubbornly gave her attention to the rest of the room.

Ron sighed in indignation but was quickly brought back to the gravity of the situation when he saw the red eyes of the callous monstrosity standing in front of the Hall cast their look down the Griffindor table. Ron sucked in his breath and gasped in relief when they passed him over. No, those eyes weren't searching for him.

Voldemort threw his sight to the doorway of the Hall and waited expectantly, it seemed that he had reached the pinnacle point of his speech for there Harry stood, alone, and experiencing the full brunt of the Dark Lord's gaze.

In the corner of his eye Ron could see Umbridge being led away by one of the Death Eaters that had arrived with Voldemort. He wondered briefly at the confused look on her face but that was quickly swept away when he realised, with horrified recognition, a certain familiarity with the cloaked figure. There was no mask to hide the calm and disarming face of Percy Weasley.

The sudden need to heave was distracted by Voldemort's chilling words, "Come Harry. We have a certain prophecy to discuss."

All eyes followed Voldemort as two of the cloaked figures grasped Harry's arms and the four of them left the Hall. So no one saw Ron collapse onto the table and the bushy-haired girl that slumped against him in defeat.

"So this is it," she whispered into the nothingness, "this is the end."

Those words, though unheard by Harry, were filling his head with endless echoes of themselves. At first he'd been to shocked to struggle against the strong arms that were pulling him away from the security of the crowd. By the time his senses had returned it was too late and any resistance he gave was pitiful. How could a sixteen-year-old boy possibly have any chance against older, fully developed men without the use of a wand? Voldemort held the thin piece of wood in his hand as he led the way up a familiar corridor. They stopped and Harry's eyes widened in surprise at their destination- though afterwards he wondered why he hadn't been expecting it.

The gargoyle he had come to think of a symbolising safety and friendship now glared at him coldly- Hogwarts was beginning to yield to its new illegitimate owner. Voldemort spoke the recent password in his shiver inducing vice, "New blood." The door opened after a slight pause and, with a smug smile on his face, the Dark Lord rose into his most recently acquisitioned territory.

"I see that Dumbledore's power is almost gone." Harry heard Voldemort inform the room as if convincing himself.

He finally found his voice, "What have you done to him?"

Voldemort simply ignored the question and continued to finger Harry's wand. Harry forced his eyes away from the epitome of evil in front of him and gazed around the room. Though he failed to register any details in his shocked stupor he did notice the empty perch where Fawks usually sat, that many of the portraits were missing and that the counter had been tossed to the side as if it were insignificant.

The Dark Lord took centre stage in front of the now cleared desk and aimed his deep red eyes at Harry who found himself held even tighter by the two Death Eaters.

"I'm going to tell you a little story, Harry. A story about an undervalued, little rat." His voice took on a playful tone, one that reminded Harry of a cat that had cornered a mouse and decided to tease it, "Once upon a time there was an escaped prisoner, a notorious madman set on bringing the darkest evil on earth back to life."

"Sirius didn't do that. We know that now." Harry defended the Godfather he never knew. If he could keep Voldemort talking then maybe there was a chance of escape. Unfortunately the strong, unrelenting arms on either side of him were causing significant difficulties with that idea.

The monster in front of him looked momentarily surprised but quickly hid the reaction, "Do you really? No matter. I don't really care about what you know. I'm just here to put you through your own personal hell so that you can a taste experience what you put me through for the last fifteen years!"

His face became clouded and his eyes flashed. He then calmed slightly and raised his hand toward one of the men by his enemy's side. Speaking in a silky voice, "Take a look at the person on your left Harry. Do you recognise him?"

Harry really devoured the person's presence for the first time that evening and gasped in realisation. Voldemort smiled at his struggling, "You should. He sat on your best friend's shoulder for five uninterrupted years before killing him. And do you know what the best part is dear, dear Harry?"

Harry refused to give him the satisfaction of an answer but his body refused to listen as it shook of its own will. "He has been the most delightful spy for me since the Weasley boy's death and not one person noticed. Not even your precious Dumbledore."

Ha paused briefly, "I think that I shall carry on with my story now;" he returned to the sing song tone, "you see that criminal madman was the perfect cover for my return. Who would notice a rat whispering in a businessman's ear and a brief disappearance when the infamous Sirius Black was being executed? Wormtail here got very worried on that night didn't you Wormtail." The man on Harry's left shook slightly but gave no other sign of hearing the question that was really a statement, "He heard mention of a certain map and was convinced that he'd been found out so he laid low for a few days until, oddly enough, nobody mentioned his name. I wasn't so surprised of course, it's always quite fun to see those who have been the subjects of prejudice turn against themselves; for Remus Lupin became his own worst enemy. Assuming that he wouldn't be believed he doubted his own intelligence and decided to leave out the tiny detail of a dead man's name out of his statement to the amazing Dumbledore. That was his big mistake, or my great relief depending on your perspective."

While he continued Harry tried to gain some freedom in his arms, which were becoming numb due to the force placed on them, but it was to no avail, "Wormtail then decided to get rid of the map for good but he still had the lingering doubt that his cover had been blown so he decided to call in on his old contacts. " He smiled thinly, "Carefully of course, this _is_ the man whose animagus is a simpering, gang animal, but he had a reason for his fellow Death Eaters not to kill him. He had his easy access to The-Boy-Who-Just-Wont-Die. Imagine Lucius Malfoy's surprise when this wretch of a man transfigured in front of him one night claiming not only to have the ability serve up Harry Potter for lunch but also to know the whereabouts of the greatest sorcerer this world has ever seen- his forgotten leader." Voldemort basked for the moment in his own glory whilst Harry boiled with rage. "This said businessman then disappeared for a few months and returned later with a fully revived god and a new left hand, which I believe he keeps covered by a glove in unwanted company- though that is sure to change now."

"I had one of the greatest political minds of this century beneath me, completely devoted to catering to my every whim of world domination. I granted him great tolerance by listening to his ideas- imagine my surprise when they were actually reasonably intelligent. Now with my skills and his… useful contacts I have full control over every member in our government and many followers positioned, merely awaiting my order to manoeuvre themselves into the appropriate muggle offices."

"I have learnt my lesson Potter. Before, in your first year, I tried to creep in to this castle," Voldemort turned his head and threw his spindly arms out in an emphatic gesture of ownership, "but I did it alone and not fully up to strength. So now, as you can see, I have full control over everywhere. _Everywhere_. In the home, over the press, all of government and even the great and impenetrable Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry! Here I am, standing in the Headmaster's office with you, the magnificently lucky Boy-Who-Lived, quivering at my feet!"

Voldemort drew back his emotions, if that is the right word to describe what such a monster experiences, and returned to his narrative, "But I'm getting ahead of myself for I have not yet finished the story. There is still the question of how the incompetent Wormtail is holding steadfastly to your arm when he failed so miserably in killing you. He even ran away from the crime as soon as he was startled! Oh Harry that would have been the end of him; I will only take so many mistakes even when the person making them was the catalyst of my return. But this is the man who will always retain an ounce of my gratitude because he gave me the information I needed to kill you." He paused in his speaking to walk up close to Harry and whisper into is ear. Harry shivered at his touch. "Did you never wonder why I stopped probing your mind during your fourth year? Have you _still_ not made the connection between that and the very vocal argument you had in your dormitories with your friends after Dumbledore had explained a little something to you about what he heard one night from a certain seer? Did you not notice the disappearance of a rat for a few days? Oh, Harry you have never been able to see what is right under your nose."

_Neither have you_ thought Harry in a flash of defiance _you didn't see Ron downstairs in the hall. You don't know about him or the doorway._ He wasn't sure how he knew this but somehow it was clear to him that Voldemort was too adamant about Ron's death to know about his sudden return.

The Dark Lord brought Harry's attention back to himself, "He told me about the prophecy Harry. I know all about it. And then just a few days ago you had another conversation with a new boy, naively spilling all of your little secrets. You were right, we do face the same problem of how to kill each other; the difference now is that I have enough intelligence to work out how to do it."

With that ominous proclamation Voldemort took Harry's wand firmly in both gnarled hands and swiftly broke it into two pieces. The scraps of worthless wood were cast to the ground, their colour dull with the loss of magic and phoenix feather sticking, shamefully, out of the core.

Harry felt his feet crumple beneath him at the sight of his crushed beloved wand.

"What about Dumbledore?" Harry cried in desperate search for a distraction, anything to dam the tide of helplessness, "What have you done to him?"

Lord Voldemort smirked, "Do really believe that that will work? You think that I'm just going to stand here talking to you forever?" he paused for a moment in thought and then spoke again but there was an edge of finality to the words that were encased in arrogance, "Dumbledore also did not notice what was right under his nose, which is a shame really considering it may have helped him to notice that the food placed in front of him every mealtime was laced with slow acting poison."

This time the break was caused by Voldemort reaching into his robes, "However, you no longer have to worry about my little games, for a prophecy is about to come to pass. It is fitting is it not that my reign should begin with the most muggle of weapons. A simple blade, the first tool created by man." He pulled out a thin knife with a harshly serrated edge and dull black handle. Gazing at it he was hypnotised by the amount power he held in his hands from such a simple thing. Fifteen years was a long time to wait for this moment.

Harry found his own eyes drawn to the silver glint of the metal as the candlelight reflected off it. There was no hint of magic anywhere about the object and Harry felt his chest swell in indignation.

"You hypocritical bas-"

His voice chocked as the cool metal blade of the knife slit his windpipe. Instinctively his hands tried to reach towards the shooting pain cutting his neck but they were still restrained. Harry could feel the blood slowly dripping, running down his neck and pooling at his collarbone before seeping into his robes.

Gasping for air his knees buckled, his captors became his crutches. The lights slowly dimmed and sounds became blurry. His eyelids fluttered and, against his will, began to close for the very last time. The final sight ingrained on his retina was of two mocking red eyes. The last sound he heard in the darkness was a hiss that trickled into his right ear and sent a shot of terror to the centre of his being.

"Do give your parents my regards Potter," whispered the gleeful voice of Tom Riddle.

* * *

AN: I bet you really hate me now. Two chapter left, well one really and an epilogue but the next one will be a bit longer. I'm not sure if the title of this chapter should be disclaimed or not because technically it came from a line in Terry Pratchetts 'Night Watch', but can you copyright a sentance?

Thank you! Thank you! to all of those people that reviewed for the first time last week and to those who remain faithful- imaginary chocolate chip cookies are now being transferred now your modem. And of course to my beta, nattieb.

suckr4romance81789- I think you misread moments for minutes, but eventually I will go back and change all of the little mistakes when its finished because you are right about the number being wrong.

grimm sister- I hope this explains my reasoning behind how Sirius's death could accomplish all this. It's not so much his death but Peter's actions that have caused the changes. Though I know I'm stretching things a bit by having Voldemort actually think things through rather than just attack Harry out right in this story. Btw I'm not having a go at JK here just adding my own view of the character. We will of course soon get to everyone else.

See ya next week.


	21. Tangible Ghosts

Tangible Ghosts

Time seemed to lose its meaning while Ron and Hermione waited for any sign of Harry or a chance to escape the hall. Ten minutes became fifteen, fifteen became thirty and so on until a whole hour had passed.

The only break in the monotony had been about twenty minutes after Harry had been taken away; maniacal laughter had echoed through the school sending chills to the bones of every seated student. Even those that seemed to be the most loyal of the turncoats shivered and Ron felt a small amount of sadistic glee when that a brief flash of regret appeared on many faces. This was their fault, he thought to himself. It wasn't so much that they had made their bed and should lie in it, but rather that they hadn't made it at all, only dumped wet towels on the covers and been surprised when they returned a week later to discover a spread of repulsive, green mould.

The passing time had helped the situation though- the longer Voldemort took doing whatever he was doing then the less attentive the Death Eaters in charge became. Wands had started to droop and there was no longer complete silence as a small wave of whispers had trickled out from the tables without reprimand.

But most importantly it had given them chance to think up a plan. Whether by chance or design those Griffindors in the seats surrounding Ron and Hermione were those still loyal to Dumbledore. On the seats to the side of them sat Neville, Dean and Parvati, all of whom Hermione knew they could almost certainly trust. Across from them were Lavender and Seamus, she hadn't been so sure of them before but now, judging by the look of outrage on their faces, they had chosen the side of the Order. The only problem was really two seventh years she didn't know very well who had trained their wands on the group as soon as Voldemort had entered.

She felt her throat constrict at the memory. The Dark Lord was here- now- and Harry was god knows where with him. Silently she prayed that he was all right and, after taking a deep breath to calm her nerves and checking that no one was watching, she readied her wand in her hand and tried to draw Neville's attention as he was sitting the closest.

"Neville," she whispered.

The shaking boy turned at the sound of her voice and dipped his head so as to allow them to talk secretly. Ron was the only one on the table that could hear what they said.

"Neville," she repeated quietly, "I need to get Robert out of here." She placed her index finger on his lips before he could interrupt with questions. "Don't ask me why but it is _really _important that I get him away and I need help to do it. Will you help us?"

Her eyes pleaded as she stared at him, a look filled with desperation and a hint of hope. Ron watched in awe as the stumbling boy he was used to seeing in this world took on a look of confidence that he vaguely recognised from his own. Here Neville had never stood up to anyone- this was his chance.

He glanced around nervously and then nodded his head, "Okay Hermione I'm in but I have no idea what you're going to do."

She checked again for any eavesdroppers, "I need a distraction. Just enough to give Ron-b time to get out."

Neville's face crinkled in confusion, "But no distraction would give him the time to get out the door. L-look at it," he stumbled, motioning towards the guarded exit and paling slightly at the desperation of the situation, "no one has a chance! One unexpected step and you can bet that killing curses will go flying!"

"Shush," Hermione hissed at his rising voice and dropped her own volume even lower so that even Ron had to strain to hear her words, "We're not getting out that way. There's a hidden passageway behind us. We just need something small so that we can slip away."

"Hermione you're not going to be able to pull this off," Ron hissed in her ear. But she ignored him and carried on giving rushed instructions to Neville. "It's not worth the risk!"

This caught her attention and as she gave her last commands she turned to Ron with an angry expression marring her features, "Not worth it! Not worth it! Ron you dingbat it isn't just my life at stake here, or just my world, it's yours as well. Now you know what to look for: how to spot the apathetic, how to notice all the little things that creep in when no ones looking, how to _stop this from happening_."

"I'm no Harry Potter," he said back harshly as he retaliated against the responsibility she had placed on him.

Hermione took a breath and stared him in the eyes, "No you're not. You're Ronald Weasley and I have the same amount of faith in you as I do Harry. We all do."

He was certain that she was wrong but before he could argue his point her concentration was drawn back to Neville as he had finished with his first task, namely informing those they now knew they could trust of the distraction needed.

"They're fine with it Hermione," he spoke emphatically gesturing to those Hermione had noted earlier.

"Do they know what could happen Neville?" Ron questioned, truly frightened to hear the answer- were they really willing to die for him? He swallowed nervously and a feeling of guilt washed over him.

Neville's determined nod was the answer he didn't want, "Look Robert, or whoever you are, a fair few of us have noticed something odd about you." He held up his hand before Ron could interrupt. "Oh come on, you waltz in and immediately become best friends with two people who make hedgehogs look friendly," he glanced sympathetically at Hermione. "Harry and Hermione haven't been close to anyone since Ron died and they accept you straight away? No, that just doesn't sit right." He smiled slightly at his friend's pale faces. "Don't worry I won't ask what's going on. I don't think we should know anyway- we might say something later… u-under d-duress," he stuttered over the thought of torture and truth potions but shook them away with a shake of his head. "Better we don't know."

"That isn't the point anyway," Neville continued to a stupefied Ron and Hermione. He gained confidence through a new feeling of resolution, "the point is that we aren't going to survive this, at least not in any way I'd be proud of, and if getting you out of here could make the slightest difference somewhere then… then it's worth the risk."

But Neville never got the chance to prove his worth. The children of Hogwarts were not to play a part in their own redemption- maybe, Ron would wonder later, they didn't deserve it. Maybe it was bad karma that brought Voldemort back at that precise moment or maybe it was fate. Whatever it was, the colourless, unmoving corpse dropped unceremoniously on the floor in front of the crowd was distraction enough.

Hermione gasped at the sight of Harry's soulless eyes unknowingly staring in the Griffindor's direction and flew backwards off her seat, hiding from the unforgiving sight in front of her.

In contrast Ron couldn't move. His eyes were glued to the unmoving figure that his heart refused to register as his dead best friend. His breathing stopped and his eyes watered, refusing to blink.

Deathly silence fell around the hall. Ron heard Hermione scrabbling behind him, choking back tears, but ignored her as he dealt with his own grief by refusing to feel anything. Instead he watched the reaction of the hall. There was complete silence. Then the screaming started.

Ron wasn't able to tell where the ear-piercing screech came from but soon it was joined in a symphony of yells, cries and curses as students and teachers realised what they'd done. What they had allowed to happen.

"This is it." He heard Hermione's voice quavering by his ear.

"What?" His thoughts were still not up to speed; they were still dealing with the familiar dead body at the front of the room with dried blood etched into its front.

"Now Ron. You have to leave now. There are _only_ five minutes left until the doorway connected to your world closes."

Time- it hadn't even crossed his mind that it was slowly running out. First with being brought to the Hall and then Harry. Harry. Suddenly going home didn't seem very important.

"What's the point?" he found his voice asking.

Hermione spun round from her frantic tampering with the wall and grabbed the front of his robes. She stared into the dying embers of his eyes and he saw the deep wells of loss in hers. "The point is Ron that Harry will have d-d… left us for nothing if you don't go home! He's saved you- now go back to your world and save him."

She was angry. Angry at Ron for leaving her at the end of fifth year, mad at her fellow students for siding with a corrupt faculty, irate at the wizarding population of Britain for doing nothing, fuming at Harry leaving her when she needed him most and now, ironically, she was angry at this Ron for _not_ leaving her.

Instead of arguing with him anymore and wasting time Hermione simply dragged him off his seat. She tapped her wand on the inscribed brick and muttered the incantation normally associated with revealing the Marauders Map.

For a moment nothing happened and Ron, now finally recovering his wits, felt his stomach tie in knots- had they misunderstood the coded message from Dumbledore?"

His worries were shown as groundless however when a group of bricks writhed into themselves to show a dark tunnel just wide enough for them to crawl through. With one last look back at the body on the floor the last parts of the broken trio wriggled away- Ron first so that Hermione could prod him whenever he'd still at the feeling of overwhelming guilt at the fact that he'd left people at the mercy of Voldemort and was now going to leave his best friend alone in the escalating madness.

As they left Voldemort and his followers regained full control of the hall.

"This will not be tolerated," the Dark Lord hissed. To prove his point he waved his wand at an unsuspecting, trembling Ravenclaw, "Crucio!"

After having his fun Voldemort cast his eyes over the Griffindor table. The Hall became truly silent as they felt his rage.

"Smith," he hissed.

The icy witch cowered under her leader's gaze as she bowed at his feet, "Yes master."

"You did say, did you not, that _every_ student was accounted for?"

She nodded her head, brow creased in confusion.

"Then would you care to tell me where the mudblood girl and her new friend are?" his silky, sarcastic tone did little to hide the threat in his voice and Smith felt her knees buckle with dread as she too spotted their absence.

"I will secure them directly sir," she managed to squeeze out of her lungs before scurrying to the door and dragging a couple of the Death Eaters with her. The quicker she ran the less likely she would feel her Lord's wrath- and if she failed… well she wouldn't let that happen. Soon the search group was running down the corridors of Hogwarts and now, with the school now working for them, they were hot on the trail of the two missing students.

Ron and Hermione had made it to the doorway. They didn't know about the hunters on their path but they guessed that it wouldn't be long before someone noticed that they were missing. The tunnel had been tight but it had got them where they needed to be and right on schedule- the timer laying forgotten in Dumbledore's, or rather Voldemort's, office had barely sixty seconds left on its timer.

There, in that dusty corridor with the footsteps of Death Eaters echoing behind them and a gradually appearing doorway in front Hermione and Ron had their last conversation in this world.

"Come with me. Please! I can't lose you too!" his voice filled with desperation.

"No Ron. This is _my_ world and _this_ is my time."

"But-"

"Go home Ron. Make sure that this never happens there."

The footsteps in the distance were getting closer, every footfall counted down another second.

5

"Go on it's almost time," Hermione's eyes were awash with tears. Her hair a mess, her robes creased and marked. Yet Ron couldn't think of a time when she had looked more beautiful.

4

"I'll never forget you," he whispered drawing her into a hug.

3

"I know," she whispered back. He didn't feel her hand slip something into his pocket.

2

The Death Eaters had arrived, Smith in the lead. There wands were outstretched and voices primed

1

"Avada Kedavra"

0

The green flash that hit Hermione's body and sent it crumpling lifelessly to the floor became enveloped by the familiar white blaze of the Doorway.

"No!"

In the blindness caused by the flash Ron could here someone yelling and realising it was his own voice and abruptly shut his mouth. Breathing heavily he opened his eyes and feasted on the first person he saw- Hermione. His Hermione. Looking worried, tired and fairly high-strung but most importantly _safe_.

Suddenly he leapt at her, wrapping her into his arms in a bone-crushing hug. Hermione was startled at the burst of emotion but was happy to relish in the close comfort.

"You're okay, you're okay," She heard him whisper over and over into her ear, "I am so sorry. I'm not ever going to let that happen. Never. Never. I love you so much."

She gasped at his revelation but that lost all prominence in her mind as grudgingly she pulled back at his obvious distress, "Ron what's wrong? What happened to you?" She reached up and softly caressed his cheek with one hand, making sure that this truly was her Ron. The mix of pain and relief that shone through his eyes made her own water and she tightened her grip on his arm.

He couldn't answer. The words got stuck in his throat when he lifted his eyes to see another ghost back from the dead.

"Harry bloody Potter!" he yelled at his messy-haired mate, leaping out of Hermione's arms to confront him, "What the hell were you thinking!"

Hermione was about to call him on his language when suddenly his arm shot out and sent Harry flailing to the floor nursing his cheek.

"What was that for?" Harry shot back from the cold floor.

"_That _was for being an idiot. That was for _lying_ to us. What were you going to do? Go after Voldemort by yourself! You _know_ that that won't work!"

Harry didn't answer, he was still too shocked from being thumped by Ron and the fact that his friend had actually said the Dark Lord's name, "What… I don't…" he mumbled.

"The _prophecy_ Harry."

"Oh." He stared guiltily at the floor.

"Yes 'oh'. Next time you find out something so bloody important don't keep it to yourself!"

The stress of the day had taken its toll on Ron. He was erratic and emotional. Torn between grief at his friend's deaths and relief that they were alive and well. But they weren't alive. They were dead and being laughed at and lorded over by Death Eaters. He collapsed to the ground, leaning against the cold stone wall, his hands tearing through his hair in effort to hold back the tears.

"Ron? Ron what happened?" he could vaguely hear Harry and Hermione's worried voices calling him but he was to numb to respond. His eyes blurred and he couldn't see or feel his friends as they crouched next to him, Hermione trying to draw his rocking body into a hug and Harry hovering next to her unsure of what to do.

"I think that it would be best for Mr Weasley to spend some quiet time in the infirmary right now." Again Ron recognised the voice, this time of Dumbledore, but was powerless to respond and felt immensely grateful for the reprieve.

He felt the hand of the old wizard, he hadn't known was there before hearing his voice, firmly grasp his shoulder, "Come on Ron," the Headmaster spoke softly, "your family want to make sure your back home safely."

Ron choked on hearing the word home. He was _home_. Safe. Secure. His dad was alive, Ginny was fine, Percy wasn't a…

That thought spurred him into action. With sudden speed that surprised the others in the corridor he hurried to the infirmary, guessing that it would be there that his family would be waiting for him. He ignored the calls imploring him to slow down.

Upon reaching the door he paused for breath and sought to compose himself. Behind him he could hear the hurrying footsteps of his friends. Cautiously he opened the door, terrified that all wouldn't be as it should be, that something might have happened whilst he was away.

He sighed in relief when he saw a mass of red hair turn towards him at the sound of the opening door.

"Albus is he alrig-" came the distressed voice of Mrs Weasley as she turned, "Ron!" At the sight of her son she ran forward and wrapped her arms around him in a torrent of emotion. He felt no sense of embarrassment as he returned the desperate hug but reluctantly pulled away to make sure that everyone else was okay.

His breath left him as he took in every worried but unharmed face. He counted his brother's relieved faces and smiled slightly as he could see that the twins were embarrassed about showing, so obviously, the fact that they cared about their brother.

He then saw the grinning face of his sister, pulled out of his mother's arms and rushed towards her. She giggled lightly as he looked her over in a very mothering manner and pulled her into a hug. "Merlin Gin, I'm never letting you out of my sight again." She quailed slightly at his proclamation but pushed the worry aside attributing it to a stressful month away.

Ron pulled back and glanced back towards the door, noting that his friends and the Headmaster had finally caught up. He returned his gaze to his family. "What are you all doing here?" he choked out.

His father- his safe and very much _alive_ father- stepped forward and placed a strong hand on his shoulder. "We were worried about you of course. As soon as I got the news from Dumbledore I notified the rest of the family." The 'just in case' hovered at the end of the sentence unsaid but everyone heard it. As much as everyone would have liked to think that Ron would have opened the doorway to a utopia it was much more likely, knowing his colourful history, that he would meet the exact opposite.

The dragon-breath burnt Charlie and cool-looking Bill made forward to check that Ron was indeed back, live and well but were cast back by a very busy Madame Pomfrey.

"Lie down please Mr Weasley," she ordered, "Why on earth Albus wouldn't let me in straight away I'll never know," she complained under her breath and Ron bit back a laugh as she continued muttering even when he was placed safely on to a hospital bed.

The other world now seemed a very, very long way away as he lay back propped up by pillows. Here he was: safe, surrounded by his family and friends and under the watchful gaze of Dumbledore. He knew it was selfish to want to forget about the last month but right now he just wanted to revel in the luxury of home. He gave a lingering look over Harry and Hermione making doubly sure that they were really there. He smiled when he saw that they were still recuperating from their dash down the Hogwarts corridors.

That feeling however was not to last as, though distracted by his mother's and Madame Pomfrey's nagging, "What _have _you been doing", "Does it hurt if I do this?" and the twins jokes, "What did you do to your hair Ron! Ashamed of your own family. Despicable", he managed to spot the Headmaster turn his Father to the side. Ron wouldn't have been bothered at all about what they were discussing until the name Smith was heard.

"Malevolous Smith?" at the sound of Ron's voice the room silenced with curiosity. Dumbledore looked at him appraisingly.

"You know of her Mr Weasley?" he asked.

"Know of her! Well, that's certainly an underestimate," the bitterness in his voice set everyone on edge.

"The minister is pressing for her to be given the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts next year," Dumbledore informed them whilst watching carefully for Ron's reaction.

The violent response from the young man took all of those in the room by surprise. "You let that- that monstrous, traitorous… snake _anywhere _near this school and I promise that I will personally throw her out again!"

"Ron!" Mrs Weasley admonished at her son's ill-mannered behaviour.

"No that's alright Molly," Dumbledore smoothed, "I take it that you have some experiences the rest of us now lack Mr Weasley?"

Ron reined his temper back and sighed leaning against his pillow, "Can I talk about this later sir? Please. I don't want to think about it… right now." His eyes were drawn to Harry and Hermione and he had to turn away quickly to hide his reaction to seeing their lifeless bodies once again flash in front of him. "I need to…"

"I understand, "Dumbledore finished drawing attention to himself as Ron surreptitiously wiped away a disobedient tear. Hermione noticed though and reached out cautious fingers to grasp her friend's hand to give whatever comfort she could and returned the weak smile her gesture invoked.

"Well if there's nothing else," the school healer prodded, "I want my patient to actually get some rest now." With heartfelt groans a sea of red hair was pushed towards the doorway and Ron's face broke into another smile.

"Can Harry and Hermione stay?" he asked, pleading with the nurse and offering a consolatory look with his family.

Madame Pomfrey surrendered to the request and the Weasley family gave there last hugs- before coming back in an hour of two of course.

However, before Mr. Weasley could leave Ron cast his sight around his family one more time and came to a decision, "Owl Percy Dad," he called, "and don't take no for an answer. It's really important. Believe me." He ignored the scowl that crossed his sibling's faces and focused on his father who nodded before leaving.

Lying back down Ron slept more soundly and securely than he had since the ministry rescue attempt of last year, friends by his side, family at the door and darkness still stuck firmly outside the walls- and by Merlin he would make sure it stayed there.

* * *

AN: Epilogue next. Fluff, humour and hope; you deserve it.

Thank you to Nattieb and all my reviews as usual. I'm sorry if I lost anyone last chapter but, in the words of JK herself, I had to do it.

pureangel- i hope this clears things up

supernova8610- give me a bit more info and I'd be happy to


	22. Epilogue

Epilogue 

A red headed girl cautiously peered around the crowded Griffindor common room and tried to slip out unnoticed. Unfortunately that wasn't to be the case.

"Ginevra Weasley where do you think your going at this time of night?"

"Ron! It is _seven_ _o'clock_. It is _not_ late!" She huffed dramatically and rolled her eyes, "All I want to do is go to the kitchens and get a little food. What's so dangerous about what I'm doing _this_ time?"

Hermione and Harry were resting in the armchairs next to the fire and laughed as they saw both siblings turn identical shades of red.

"It's very dangerous Ginny!" Ron was trying to stay calm but instead was failing miserably as he rose from his comfortable seat in an attempt to look more authoritative.

Fighting the urge to smile Hermione decided to step in before anyone exploded, "Hey Gin, Harry said he's going to go down in a bit why don't you wait for a minute and he'll bring something up for you as well."

"Thanks," she heard Harry sarcastically mutter next to her and she stifled another laugh.

Ginny face clouded in indecision before turning sharply away from the portrait and heading up the stairs to the dormitories. "I'll have the chicken pie please Harry," she called over her shoulder," and some chocolate cake. Just call when your back."

Hermione was close to falling off her chair from holding back her giggles as Ron slumped back into his seat with an air of relief.

"You do realise that eventually she will kill you in frustration. Don't you?" Harry started. His voice was good humoured but tinged with warning.

Ron glanced apprehensively towards the stairwell, "I'm only looking out for her."

His two best friends shared a look. On the one hand, Ron had been through a lot. It had taken a fair bit of persuasion before he could even discuss what he'd seen and giving a full account of his month away had been incredibly difficult to hear for all those involved. They couldn't imagine what it must have been like for him to see his whole world crumble apart only to have it reappear again in a moment. But on the other, they could see that Ginny was close to giving her brother a good slap with his over zealous mothering. She had only allowed his nagging to go on for the past week since his return because she knew the reason for it and appreciated his concern.

Deciding that a little revenge against Hermione was in order, Harry decided to let her explain this to Ron without him to act as mediator. He looked at them both, "I'll just go get Ginny's food then shall I?" Rising from his chair he raced towards the portrait door before she could scorch him with her death stare.

Hermione shifted in her seat uncomfortably, "Well, Ron it's just that… you are being a little bit over protective," he made to start on his defence so she quickly continued before he could interrupt, "it's perfectly reasonable for you to be worried, anyone would be in your situation. But don't you think you're taking it a tiny bit too far?"

Ron glared at her," I'm not _that _bad."

"No not at all!" she scoffed, "you've only memorised her timetable, interviewed her friends to make sure of their good intentions _and_ never allow her to leave the common room by herself," she continued dryly and lifted her eyebrows to emphasise her point.

He sighed and ran his hand through his once again red hair, "I just don't want her to get hurt."

Hermione took his hand in hers and spoke softly, "I know that and so does Ginny. Believe me, if she didn't know about the attac-" she stumbled over the words, "well, didn't understand why you were so protective, then you really would have had a bat-bogey hex flying in your direction by now." She smiled reassuringly, "Nothing's going to happen Ron. Smith has been stopped and with the other names you've given Dumbledore you've prevented that set of possibilities from happening. She will be okay. Alright?"

Ron nodded and smiled weakly, "Yeah, you're right. I suppose I could lay off a little bit."

A pause settled between them flavoured with awkwardness. Neither had mentioned the declaration Ron had made on his return home. He could barely remember making it and she was too terrified that she'd misheard him or simply misunderstood to say anything.

"Fancy a game of chess?" Ron asked, breaking the tension.

Hermione nodded and he bounded upstairs to the dormitories to get his set. He opened the door of the room he shared with the other sixth year boys and found it empty. As he reached for the game a piece of parchment resting innocently on his bed caught his eye. The folded robe next to it suggested that the paper had been left in the pocket of his robes when washed. The house elves had obviously found and saved it from the decimation of their cleaning spells that awaited often forgotten scribbles and snotty tissues. The odd thing was that this was the robe he was wearing when he came back through the Doorway, but he didn't bring anything back with him… did he?

Downstairs Hermione was getting worried. Ron may have only been gone for a couple of minutes but ever since his return she had barely let him out of her sight- she was just a little more subtle about it than he was with Ginny.

"Ron?" she spoke questioningly, cautiously opening the door to his room, "Are you alright? You've been up here a while," she stopped her nervous mumblings when she saw his silhouetted figure standing dead still with his head slightly bowed. Looking closer she noted that he was staring at a piece of parchment in his hands, it also seemed that he hadn't noticed a square of moving paper by his feet. Hermione's attention was drawn back from to ground to Ron though before she could get a closer look.

"I can't believe it," he half laughed, half cried, "she actually did it."

"Who did what Ron?" she asked moving closer and seeing that his face was lit in a wide smile of incredulity, though his eyes were glistening slightly more than usual.

Her voice brought Ron out of his stupor and he handed the note to her.

**Potions:  
Shrinking mark IV- A  
Bobolus Minoluct- A**

**Charms:  
****End of Unit 6- A**

The list carried on and she looked up in confusion, "This is most of the work we did last month?"

"Yep," his grin grew.

"But… you weren't… I don't understand," she gave up.

Ron was enjoying himself immensely- _Hermione Granger _actually wanted him to explain something. Feeling in a charitable mood he decided to enlighten her, "You, no I mean the other world's Hermione, told me that she'd send my grades through with me when I stupidly let it slip to Harry that I thought I could get away with doing nothing for the month." Hermione returned his smile but felt very uncomfortable talking about herself. Ron continued, "I can't believe that she remembered, that she actually had the gall to do it!" He took an appraising glance over Hermione and smiled when his actions were greeted by a flush, "Or maybe I shouldn't be so surprised."

Hermione dropped her eyes at the compliment, at least that's what she took it as. When she did she finally saw the moving image on the floor by their feet.

Her gasp and jump backwards caused Ron's brow to crease. "What is it?" he asked.

"Why don't you tell me?" Her tone was one of wonderment as she reached for the photo, she didn't remember having taken, on the floor and handed it to Ron; leaving the parchment temporarily forgotten on the bed. She stared at the kissing figures in disbelief, as if at any moment they would disappear.

Ron turned the colour of his hair and gulped a couple of times. Technically he had told everyone the truth about what had happened during his month away- it was just that he hadn't told them everything about that had happened before his arrival. There was only one piece of information he had held back really, the part where the Ron and Hermione in that world had been a couple.

"Erm… er… you see…" he stalled.

"Ron," she warned.

"Okay." He felt a sense of confidence begin to fill him as he truly realised that the Hermione of the other world and this one were essentially the same and that meant that she could only feel the same way. That was the theory anyway. Firmly he sat Hermione down on the bed and tried to stand still in front of her to tell her everything but he ended up pacing, the photo clutched tightly in his left hand.

"Look," he began and then stopped again, "Right... well, you see…"

"Ron!"

"Okay! Okay. Say… hypothetically, that there was this dance," Hermione's face was creased with confusion but he pressed on, "a Christmas ball… two years ago."

"Oh," she breathed in understanding.

"Hypothetically speaking of course."

"Of course," she nodded, though they both knew that the other understood the implications of what was being said.

"Well say that before this ball this guy realised that his best friend was indeed a girl and tried to ask her to go with him but did it very, _very_ badly."

"Then she doesn't realise how he really feels and goes with the next best offer," Hermione supplied. She was taking a slight amount of sadistic glee from this confession of Ron's. One she had been waiting for for a long time.

Ron argued her answer, "Yes, she could do that but what if there was no backup? What would have happened if she hadn't spent hours more than usual in the library making sure that her friend would be okay in a tournament he wasn't taking part in?" The explanation was starting to get a little confusing so Ron stood still straight in front of Hermione and looked down into her eyes, "Say that that night he got to ask her properly. Imagine, just for a moment, what it would have been like had the one sparkling glitter of that world happened here."

His words fell into silence. Hermione was too taken aback for words. Yes, as soon as she'd seen the photo she'd expected something, but this was an overload of information. She began to think out loud, "That would mean that they'd have been together for over two years by now," she continued after he nodded, "that would mean… oh God Ron he left her!"

Ron was taken back by the vehemence of her proclamation until he realised what she meant. In that world he had died. In that world she had died.

"Yeah," Ron began, "he did. But she's with him now. Is that a good or bad thing?"

Hermione fiddled with her hands and noticed their instinctive move towards the necklace around her neck. "I honestly don't know," she finally answered.

Silence fell again.

"Should it have happened?"

Ron's question only elicited confusion from Hermione.

"Was it worth it?" he explained, "Merlin Hermione, I could still see the pain every time she looked at me. It was an age before we could even manage a conversation that lasted longer than ten minutes. I don't want that to happen to y- here. It can't happen here."

Hermione quickly felt anger bubble up inside her. Standing up she let it overflow, "Don't you think that that would happen anyway Ron? Do you have _any_ idea of how much it has killed Harry and me without you this past month? And we aren't even going out yet!"

Her shout echoed around the room. Her last word saying finally proving what she felt to the world at large.

Hermione looked back at the photo in Ron's hand and wound her fingers through his and around the paper. "Maybe she was trying to tell you something," Hermione hinted, looking straight into his eyes, "Maybe she knew we would ask this question and so gave us the answer. Maybe it is worth it."

"Are you sure?" Ron whispered, his lips drawing close.

"Hypothetically speaking," she breathed back and a moment later they were replicating the couple on the paper that was clutched between their entwined hands.

Another second passed before they were interrupted, "Hey do you to want some of this food I broug-" Harry stopped short when he saw the couple break apart, "Oops. I'm guessing no then." He laughed at their strawberry faces before walking past them, reaching for Ron's forgotten chess set, and turning back towards the door, "I'll play you in five minutes okay Ron? Alright make it ten." He ignored the lack of answer and continued laughing at the identical surprised looks on their faces as he returned to the common room eager to spread the good news.

* * *

A week later Ron and was still experiencing a nagging feeling of doubt. Everything was going well with Hermione and he wasn't too far behind in his classes but there was an annoying tug constantly chirping at him to do something more to protect the future. He voiced this to his closest friends hoping that they might have some of the insights he lacked.

"You know Ron from what you've told me," said Hermione in full analysing mode, "it seems that the only way to really prevent that world is to ensure unity throughout the country- well at least in Hogwarts anyway."

Harry spoke up as he slammed his potion materials onto the desk in front of him, "I really don't see that happening though, do you?" He nodded towards the sullen potions master and smug ferret, or rather, the Slytherins in general.

"It won't be easy," Ron agreed.

"It'll be impossible," Harry argued.

"How would you do it Ron?" Hermione questioned, genuinely intrigued and proud of her boyfriend.

There was a slight pause. "Absolutely no idea."

It was at the end of that lesson that an inkling of an idea came to him in the form of a forgotten book and a memory.

"_It's a shame he turned out that way really," Harry whispered conversationally to Ron, returning to his bubbling potion._

"_What do you mean?" Ron asked._

"_Well Dumbledore has this strange notion that Malfoy may have actually joined our side if his father hadn't become one of Voldemort's key Deatheaters."_

"_Where on earth did he get that idea!"_

"_I don't really know, but it is Dumbledore we're talking about, sometimes I just think that he knows everything."_

Jolted into action, Ron motioned for the others to go ahead without him and grabbed the textbook.

"Hey Malfoy!" he called out to the blonde's retreating back.

Draco turned slowly, making his irritation quite clear, "What is it Weasel?"

Ron swallowed the automatic response to curse the smug twat and instead handed over his forgotten potions textbook. Malfoy stared at it in surprise and some trepidation before taking it.

"Don't worry its not cursed," Ron reassured him. Though, in the strangeness of the situation, that wasn't very reassuring.

Taken by surprise at the realisation that he wasn't being hexed Draco mumbled a thank you and continued to walk away, not really conscious of the fact that he had just thanked a Weasley.

"Do you really think that will make much of a difference?" asked Hermione, appearing from the shadows and taking Ron's hand, Harry just behind her, "Hogwarts wasn't built in a day you know."

"True," he replied, kissing her lightly on the cheek and noticing that Malfoy had just turned his face back for a moment before leaving their line of sight, "but maybe parts of it were."

The End... or just the beginning.

* * *

AN: Before anyone thinks any differently there will be no sequal to this. Oh and the proverb at the end was borrowed and slighlty twisted from an episode of Murphys Law, a drama series on the BBC, though I'm sure it'll have been used elsewhere.

So that's it, it's all finished now.So to all those that have read and not **reviewed** now would be the time to do it. Anybody who **reviews** now will recieve a great amount of love via the web. But if you do review I'll be going back over this in a years time so if you could say one thing you liked and one you didn't then I can improve the story and learn from any mistakes. Thankyou!

Now to everyone who has reviewed this story- I hope you're still here:-  
supernova8610, emanym, Broken Rain, BrownPryde, MyLuckyStars, Tinker1704, meee, Karla Marie, Grimm Sister, HeyImTalkingToYou, loonygrl90, Trevorthetoadsmybestfriend, Grint'sBestPal, Saraneth90, see-me-surf, Jewel, Alixa Lightz, Greenpluff, Dassadec, eMeRaLd'S gUrL, belanna30, pureangel, RHFCFSAF, Esrb99, Kaitie,eckles, actionmaster, dancerrdw, suckr4romance81789, Maygin, Bobboky, Cheekychik, Original Mercedes Benz, MikonHanyou13, Weasley, Harry Lvr, Granger-Hermione03, Sammery, Jdcrmn.

Some of you reviewed more than others but every single person on that list already has my thanks, those that have said something for every chapter (or pretty close) get a big hug aswell.

By the way, supernova is being a pain and web addresses wont show in reviews so could you please try again with gaps ect or send me an e-mail. Thank you- trust ff to make things complicated!

And last but not least a huge thank you to nattieb who made sure that this story actually made sense.

Coming soon to a fanfiction site near you:-  
One Fine Day- A D/G fic loosely based on the as named movie. Release date unknown.  
Harry Potter and the Glass Slipper: Revised- Expected June time

Bub bye till next time xx


End file.
